Sing The Bells
by Ichiko Wind Gryphon
Summary: Here is a riddle, to guess if you can, sing the bells of Notre Dame. What makes a monster and what makes a man? Fiyeraba, one-sided ElphabaxBoq
1. A Cold Winter Night

**Author's Note: Well, I had this idea one day and it wouldn't stop nagging me until I wrote it down, so here it is.**

**This story is basically "The Hunchback of Notre Dame" with characters from Wicked, but it has several, fairly obvious differences. **

**And you ask me, my dear readers, who is who in this tale of love, courage, and adventure? Ah, that's a good question! Why don't you read, and find out? ;D**

**Oh, this story's going to be shorter than some of my others. Not nearly as long as Cursed Blood, I hope. Just an fyi: I copied and pasted "Cursed Blood" to Word. Guess how many pages? 374. Yeah. THREE HUNDRED AND SEVENTY-FOUR PAGES AND IT'S NOT EVEN COMPLETED OH MY GOD. DX**

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The city awoke to the rising sun and the beautiful sound of brass bells tolling the early hour. Each bell had a unique sound, each one was different from the next. No two were exactly the same, creating a rainbow of sounds, reflecting every mood, from joy to sorrow.

The harmonious music came from the enormous cathedral in the heart of the Emerald City, properly called Notre Dame de Ville Vert. It was the most marvelous and impressive display of architecture in the city, with its wide sweeping butresses and tall, pointed steeple, its hundreds of glorious stained glass windows, and the ever-so-present sound of bells tolling throughout the day.

Avaric sighed, cupping his hand to his ear, enjoying the melodious chorus of brass. "Listen!" he said. "They are beautiful, no?"

Avaric was a traveling Gypsy, part of an underground cult, if you will, of people believing, and on rare occasions, practicing, witchcraft and sorcery. He was currently in a small colorful caravan, entertaining the young children of the Emerald City. About four or five came up to him, curious to see what this strange and queer looking man was up to.

"So many colors of sound, so many changing moods . . ." he continued, looking down at the mystified children. "But you know, they do not ring all by themselves!"

At this, he pulled out a small hand puppet, which looked remarkably like himself. "They don't?!" the puppet (really, Avaric) squeaked.

"No! You silly boy!" Avaric said in a whispery voice. "Up there, high, high up in the bell tower, lives the mysterious bell-ringer!" He cast his gaze towards the towering spire that was the bell tower of Notre Dame de Ville Vert, where the music of the bells was coming from. "Who is this creature?"

"Who?!" the puppet chorused.

"What is he?"

"What?"

"How did he come to be?"

"How?"

Avaric smacked the puppet over the head with a stick. "Hush!" he said harshly. The puppet cowered away, rubbing his head. The children giggled.

"Avaric will tell you!" he said, his voice growing low and mysterious. "It is a tale! A tale of a man, and a monster!"

* * *

She ran, trying to keep up with the men in front of her. She gasped for breath, the ice-cold winter air searing her lungs. One of the men, her husband, turned around.

"Quickly! Or we'll never catch the boat in time!" he said in a hushed voice.

She gripped the bundle in her arms tightly, closing her eyes and quickening her step.

_No matter what happens to me, keep my baby safe!_

She had kept part of her promise, she had rescued the infant child from certain death, and now she was going to protect the child with her life. She made a promise, and may her soul burn in hell for eternity if she dared break that promise.

They reached the docks, boarding a small, wooden boat. The ferryman, an old, unkind looking creature, sneered at them, but said nothing. He launched the boat, steering it down the canals of the Emerald City, hoping to get his passengers to safety.

They had one chance, and one chance only. They had to get to the Court of Miracles before they were discovered. And heaven help them if they did not reach it.

The baby began to cry. The woman rocked the child in her arms, urging it to remain quiet.

"Shut it up, will you?!" one of the passengers snarled to her.

"We'll be spotted!" her husband chimed in. She sensed the fear in her voice, and started to quietly sing to the child, and thankfully, it fell back asleep.

After an hour or so, they reached the drop-off point. The woman breathed a sigh of relief as she stepped off the boat.

"Four pieces of silver for safe passage!" the ferryman said in a wicked tone, holding out his hand for payment.

Suddenly, out of the darkness and shadows, guards lunged at them, herding them into a circle, pointing their vicious and cruel-looking spears at them. The woman cried out with surprise, and the husband tried to swat their spears away, but the guards only stepped closer, nearly driving them into the icy water of the canal.

Hooves clomped on the cobblestone and snow. The Gypsies turned towards the sound, and quivered with fear at the figure before them, towering above them on a giant black steed. A man, whose cruelty and thirst for cleansing the streets of corruption knew no bounds. A man, who claimed to be just, but was one of the cruelest and most unkind man in all the land.

"The Great Minister Ozymandias!" the woman's husband gasped.

The most powerful man in the entire country, second to only the Wizard himself, Ozymandias was a thin, old man with silvery hair, but his eyes burned with such intense fire it was rumored they came from the very pits of hell itself. He studied them with a vicious glare, and the guards handcuffed the men in heavy chains and began to lead them away.

"Bring these Gypsy vermin to the Palace of Justice!" he ordered. His voice was quiet, and as cold as the winter air. The woman shuddered with terror.

"You there!" a guard barked, noticing the woman. He reached for the baby, hidden in cloths and blankets, but she turned away, keeping the baby out of harm's reach. She tried to run, but the guard grabbed her wrist tightly and she could not pull away. "What are you hiding?!" He reached once again for the bundle, but she shoved him away.

"Stolen goods, no doubt," Minister Ozymandias said coldly. "Take them from her!"

_She ran!_

The woman pulled away and took off down the streets, her heart filled with fear, for her own safety and the child's. Ozymandias chased after her without a second's hesitation, the horse's hooves pounding dangerously close behind her. The woman ran even faster, ducking in and out of alleyways, hoping to lose the pursuing man. But she had no such luck.

She jumped a fence, temporarily buying herself time, as Ozymandias's horse could not follow her through the fence. To her immense relief, she saw a church. The Notre Dame de Ville Vert! She could seek sanctuary there! It was her only hope.

She pulled on the doorhandles, but it was locked. The woman pounded on the doors. "SANCTUARY!" she cried desperately. "PLEASE GIVE US SANCTUARY!"

The sound of thundering hooves filled the air. The woman turned around, and saw Ozymandias approaching her. She gasped in horror, and started sprinting around the perimeter of the church, hoping to find an unlocked door. But Ozymandias caught her, and grabbed the baby. The woman, however weaker than Ozymandias she may be, held on tightly, trying to pull the baby away.

Suddenly, Ozymandias's foot shot up, kicking the woman. She tumbled backwards, and her skull cracked against the stone steps of the mighty cathedral.

She died instantly.

Ozymandias looked down at her, feeling no guilt, no sympathy, no emotions whatsoever for the woman he had just killed. The baby began to cry.

Ozymandias, curious, looked at it. "A baby?" he asked himself curiously. He pulled away a layer of fabric that covered its face. And he gasped.

"An angel!" he whispered to himself.

Gypsies were widely known for their dark skin. But the infant he held in his arms had pale and ivory skin, that of an Ozian, and not a Gypsy. The man understood. _The woman,_ he thought, _must have kidnapped this child from its true parents and tried to raise it as her own. _His cold unforgiving heart burned with such rage. _It was a good thing, then,_ he thought, _that I pursued this woman, and rescued the child from a damned life. I shall take the child in and raise it as my own._

He took in the child and gave it a simple name, a common name, but a good name nonetheless. He raised it like his own for seven long years. He taught the child everything there was to know, and Ozymandias educated the child himself in grammar, mathematics, writing, reading, and even some basic politics, government, and financing. But above all, he taught the child to hate the Gypsies, to loathe their very existence.

"They are thieves and tricksters," he told the child. "They will manipulate you to get what you want."

One day, when the child was still very young, he took the child out to the city, and on one of the streets, Ozymandias saw a Gypsy boy not much older than his own child. He gave his child a knowing look, and the child understood. The child approached the Gypsy, and beat him, until his scalp was bleeding and he was laying unconscious in the streets.

Ozymandias smiled approvingly. "You have learned very well. You will make a marvelous heir one day."

"Thank you, father."

Ozymandias loved to hear the child call him that. Of course the child was still too young to understand that bit, but it all worked out for the better. The child was loyal to him unto death itself. And Ozymandias loved the child only more for that.

But an old Gypsy woman, a skilled sorceress, had watched the carnage. She sneered her rotten teeth with disgust. The man had corrupted the child completely, and still while the child was so young! But she was a cunning woman, a clever trickster, and thought of a marvelous plan.

Late at night, when the child had fallen asleep, a knock came at the door. Ozymandias, who had been reading a book by the fireplace, rose to answer the door. He was greeted by a revolting sight, an old woman in ragged clothes and shriveled hands. Her eyes were blue and glazed, staring coldly at Ozymandias.

"You speak of justice! While in your black and bottomless heart you are as corrupt as the Devil himself!" the woman croaked, pointing a long, twisted finger at him. "And now you will pay for your injustices! Your child, whom you kidnapped and raised as your own, whom you love above all things, will become as heartless as you are! Twisted in form! Just as your heart is twisted with corruption and evil!!"

The woman cackled, and vanished in a cloud of black smoke. Ozymandias coughed, waving the smoke away. A crazy old beggar woman, and nothing more. Or so he thought

Then he heard a scream.

* * *

"What happened then? Why, that's only the start of our tale!" Avaric said. "Well, evil old Ozzy rushed up the stairs to the child, and looked upon with horror the fulfilment of the old woman's curse. The child was indeed as heartless and cold as Ozymandias's heart! And his form was hideously twisted, just as his heart was twisted with evil and corruption! Ozymandias, horrified at the child's new form, hid him away, banishing the child to live for eternity in the bell towers of Notre Dame de Ville Vert!"

"So here is a riddle, take a guess, if you can, as the bells of Notre Dame sing on! Which one is the monster, and which one is the man?"

_Sing the bells, bells, bells, bells, bells of Notre Dame!_


	2. Grey Monotony

It was that time of the week again. Sunday morning, just after Mass concluded. People were filing in an orderly fashion out of the cathedral, the Dame de Ville Vert. The smell of incense and candles filled the holy air, and the chorus was still singing the closing hymn, their voices droning on in harmony.

Ozymandias gazed up at the Rose Window, an exquisitely beautiful display of artwork. This window, created when the cathedral was first built hundreds of years ago, was a magnificent stained glass window that cast a rainbow of colors on the granite floors below.

Anyone else would have been mesmerized by this man-made wonder. But Ozymandias was the only one that noticed the silhouette standing besides the window.

"You made a promise," the arch deacon said, approaching Ozymandias. "Once a week, you were to visit the bell ringer." Ozymandias narrowed his eyes.

"I am well aware of that, _Father_," he said icily.

"Then what are you waiting for?"

"Do not test my patience," Ozymandias said cooly. He marched up a spiral staircase hidden in the corner of the cathedral. Few people knew of this staircase, and with good reason. If some commoner were to wander up these forbidden stairs . . . Ozymandias shuddered at the mere thought.

He was inside the massive bell tower, the brass bells hanging from rafters high above his head.

"Hello, Master," a voice said. Even, steady, no hesitation. Neither cold with hostility, nor warm with welcoming. Completely emotionless.

"Good morning, my servant," Ozymandias said calmly.

The creature he spoke to resembled a man in shape, but there the resemblance ended. Instead of flesh and bones of a normal human, the creature he spoke to was made entirely of metal. Tin, to be precise. Nothing more than a collection of gears, bolts, and pieces of metal, the Tin Man did look remarkably like a human being, but it was nothing like a person. It had no emotions, no capacity for fear, hatred, or love. It only knew one thing: to be Ozymandias's loyal servant.

"How are you doing today?" Ozymandias said.

"I am perfectly fine," the Tin Man replied.

"And have you been keeping up with your studies?"

Ozymandias seated himself at a table, and his servant instantly brought him a cup filled with wine and plate with bread, a slice of meat, and some grapes. The Tin Man seated himself across the table from Ozymandias, but did not get himself any food or drink. Being a machine, he had no need for such luxuries.

"I have been reading the Bible as you commanded, Master," Tin Man replied.

"Recite to me your favorite passage, then."

"I have no favorite. It is all the same, only black symbols on white paper."

Ozymandias smiled. Others might have been intimidated by this soul-less being, but not Ozymandias. The one thing he relished about the creature was that it was devoid of the simple things: favorites, pleasures, hobbies, and so on. It was easier for him to objectify and forget the creature's grisly past. And to forget he once used to call this thing his son. Only a machine, and nothing more. No emotions. A sweet, pleasurable monotony Ozymandias enjoyed.

"Then just recite any passage you wish."

"I have no wish of my own. Only to serve you, Master."

Ozymandias enjoyed hearing the metal being say that. "The Gospel of Matthew, Chapter 14, then."

"During the fourth watch of the night Jesus went out to his disciples, walking on the lake. When the disciples saw him walking on the lake, they were terrified. "It's a ghost," they said, and cried out in fear. But Jesus immediately said to them: "Take courage! It is I. Don't be afraid." "Lord, if it's you," Peter replied, "tell me to come to you on the water." "Come," he said. Then Peter got down out of the boat, walked on the water and came toward Jesus. But when he saw the wind, he was afraid and, beginning to sink, cried out, "Lord, save me!" Immediately Jesus reached out his hand and caught him. "You of little faith," he said, "why did you doubt?" And when they climbed into the boat, the wind died down. Then those who were in the boat worshiped him, saying, "Truly you are the Son of God."

"Beautiful," Ozymandias said. "Such a strange story, don't you think, a man, walking on water."

"The Lord Jesus Christ has great power," Tin Man answered simply. "You have taught me well, Master."

"You are a creature with kind words."

"I am only repaying in words the kindness you have done to me," Tin Man said.

Ozymandias sipped his wine slowly. "And are you enjoying your work as the bell ringer?"

"The only enjoyment I find is pleasing you."

"And you have pleased me very well."

"Then I am overjoyed."

Ozymandias stood to leave. "It has been a pleasure to chat with you. I shall see you once more next week."

"It is always a pleasure to be in your company," Tin Man said, clearing the dishes.

Ozymandias, satisfied and with a content heart, left.

* * *

He watched him go.

From hundreds of feet above, high in the towers, he could see his Master Ozymandias calmly walk out of the cathedral and out into the real world below.

He sighed.

He was not as emotionless as Ozymandias thought. He could still feel every basic human emotion, and was quite capable of thinking on his own. He even enjoyed reading some of Socrates's philosophies when his duties as the bell ringer have been completed.

But Oz didn't need to know that. The Tin Man knew that it would only upset him. And he didn't want to upset his master.

He turned and went back to his daily ritual of cleaning and polishing the bells. There were dozens of them, and each had to be carefully polished and dusted to make them last as long as possible. Grabbing a rag and a small bucket of polish, he swiftly climbed the rafters and started. The bell he was working on, he called Maria.

"And how are you feeling today, Maria?" he asked the bell.

The sound of his voice echoed off the smooth surface, creating a soft hum. Boq smiled.

"It's good to know you're feeling as good as always!" He turned to work on the next bell, Sophia. "Keeping an eye on your little sister, now, are you?" Sophia was a much bigger bell than Maria, and when she tolled, she created a loud boom as loud as a crack of thunder, but the sound was as beautiful as a harp. "Don't want her to break, you know. It is quite difficult to fix her. And not to mention we won't be able to hear your sister ring for weeks."

He worked tirelessly for hours. One advantage of being a machine instead of a creature of flesh and bone was that he could not tire or fatigue. The sun was beginning to set when he finally finished, and just in time for evening mass.

Grabbing a thick rope, he tugged, and the world around him erupted in a beautiful symphony of the ringing bells. Boq closed his eyes and smiled, listening to the music. It was another thing he truly enjoyed. Just listening to the beautiful music echo around the tower was a wonder within itself.

He was content living here.

He knew this was the only place he really belonged, here, with other clockwork mechanisms like himself. Oz taught him to stay where he was happy, and that was here. Seperated from the real world, the world Oz talked about so much, a world filled with cruelty and corruption. Out there, he would only be an outcast, an outsider, a monster reviled by the people.

No, this was where he belonged. He was safe, and happy.

Well . . . perhaps not _happy_, but at the very least, he was content. Oz had been very kind to him over the years. Visiting him every week, talking to him, raising him, teaching him all he knew . . . Boq knew he was very lucky to have someone like Oz looking out for him. Really, the only one he could blame for his predicament was himself.

Boq shook his head. He had enough self-pity parties over the endless years he had been here. No sense dwelling on the past.

So he rang on, filling the evening air with music.

But he never lost his sense of wonder. He never stopped wondering what it would be like to spend just one day among the people.

Shaking his head, he kept ringing the bells. Maybe one day.

Maybe.

* * *

Boq did not need to sleep, being a machine, so he spent his nights on the roof, gazing up at the infinite stars above him. He pointed out all his favorite constellations to himself, outlining the shapes in his mind.

Draco, Pegasus, Scorpio, Orion . . .

A shooting star.

Boq paused, watching it streak through the sky for only a second before it disappeared.

He smiled. _Make a wish, tin man,_ he thought to himself. "Ok . . . I wish that I could spend one day out on the streets, in the real world, just to see what it's like."

"You don't neede to wish on a star to make a dream reality."

Boq turned, and smiled. "Arch Deacon Ferdinan. Such a pleasure for you to visit me."

Ferdinan was the head of the cathedral and oversaw everything that went on in the Church. He led the Masses and prayer services, and occasionally taught religious classes to university students. He was the one that allowed Boq to stay in Notre Dame's bell tower after the . . . incident. He was Boq's only true friend, besides Ozymandias.

"I thought your only pleasure was pleasing dear old Ozzy," Ferdinan said with a wink.

"I only say that to make him happy," he said.

Ferdinan seated himself next to Boq. "Another beautiful night."

"Yes."

"The Festival of Fools is approaching," Ferdinan reminded his metal companion.

"Indeed, it is that time of year yet again," Boq said.

"It'll be a fine festival. You enjoy watching it."

Boq was silent.

"And maybe perhaps this year . . . instead of watching the festival . . . you should go."

Boq leapt to his feet. "Are you crazy?!" Boq said, panic-stricken. "I couldn't! I wouldn't fit in, and Ozymandias would never allow me to go! He _hates_ the festival!"

"Who says you need to ask Ozymandias to go?" Ferdinan said slyly.

"But he told me I'm forbidden from ever leaving the bell tower!"

"It would only be a few hours. Just for the afternoon."

"You're telling me to disobey my master!" Boq said frantically, waving his arms. "Isn't that a sin?! 'Thou shalt always respect your mother and thy father?!'"

"It's also a sin to be locked away against your will without good reason," Ferdinan said.

"Just in case you haven't noticed," Boq said testily. "I'm very noticeable. I'm _shiny_."

"You can wear a disguise," Ferdinan answered simply. "All you need is a cloak, and a mask. With so much excitement, music, and dancing, no one will pay you much attention. And everyone will be wearing costumes. If one were to see you as you are, they would only think it's a costume," Ferdinan shrugged. "You were always so curious about the outside world. You've forgotten what it's like to be one of them, haven't you?"

Slowly, Boq nodded. "It's been so long," he said.

"Well, maybe it's time to go out, and enjoy yourself," Ferdinan said, turning to leave. "No one wants to stay cooped up here forever."


	3. The Captain

A man walked down the busy streets of the Emerald City, nose buried in a map. A white horse with a dark mane trailed behind him, flicking his ears in an annoyed fashion. The man had long, golden-blond hair tied back in a ponytail and piercing blue eyes. He wore his silver armor under an emerald-green cape, to avoid unwanted attention. People tended to act funny around someone wearing metal armor and carrying a big sword. He was a soldier, and a very good one at that. He had recently recieved a message asking, no, _ordering_, him to return to the Emerald City at once. So here he was, completely lost, and trying to look for a place called the Palace of Justice.

This man was named Fiyero Tiggular, a well-respected soldier and Captain of the Guards. And he had earned a very interesting nickname from his time in the wars, a nickname he wasn't particularly fond of.

Fiyero muttered to himself angrily as he flipped around the map in his hands, trying to make sense of it. It had been so long since he's been in the Emerald City, but shouldn't he know by heart every street, every building, _everything_ about the city he was sworn to protect?

He growled, crumpling up the map and tossing it away. "You leave town for a couple of decades and they change everything on you," he said to his horse, Achilles. Achiles snorted in agreement.

He looked around. Ok . . . that building looked somewhat familiar . . . wait, he just passed by that building five minutes ago. He slapped his hand over his eyes. Great. He's been walking around in circles.

He saw a couple of guards marching down the streets. "Excuse me, sir, could you please point me in the direction of the Palace of Justice?" The guards completely ignored him and walked right past him. He grumbled. "Apparently not. Well, I see one thing hasn't changed. The guards still don't have any manners."

Achilles snorted.

He walked a little further down the streets, and saw a few people in bright colored clothes dancing on one of the street corners. One of them was playing a flute. Another one, a woman wearing a long black dress with a silver sash, was dancing with a tambourine in hand and a goat was playfully tromping around at her feet. Passerbys shot the entertainers disgusted looks.

"Stay away from them! They're Gypsies, they'll rob us blind!" Fiyero could hear a woman scold her child. Fiyero raised an eyebrow. Surely they couldn't be all that bad.

He tossed a coin in a sack they had out to collect money, and that's when he got a good look at the dancer's face. She was absolutely stunning. She had long black hair that hung around her angular face like a midnight waterfall, and she had prominent cheekbones and a strong chin. Her eyes were pure brown, filled with warmth and such lively fire. Fiyero had never seen anyone like her. She was beautiful. It took him a moment for him to realize she had emerald-green skin, which only fascinated him more. But it was probably only paint. Pity. It would have been a wonder if she really did have green skin. It would have only made her more beautiful than she already was.

Their eyes met, and the woman smiled, tapping her tambourine lightly with the tips of her fingers. Fiyero smiled back.

One of the Gypsies whistled, with an urgent look on his face. They turned, and saw guards approaching. Quickly they left their street corner and ran back into the depths of the city. The woman stopped, remembering the sack of money, and turned to get it. But by then, the guards saw her, and grabbed the money from her.

"Where did you get this?" one of the guards sneered.

"For your information, I earned it!" the woman said icily.

"Gypsies don't earn money! They steal it!" the other guard said, tugging the bag away. The woman tugged back.

"Yeah, you would know a lot about stealing, wouldn't you?" the woman retorted.

The little goat that had been dancing with the woman suddenly head-butted one of the guards, distracting the other one enough so she could slip out of their grasp and grab the money. She took off down the streets, but not without kicking one of the guards- hard -in the stomach.

"Get back here, you thief!" the guards yelled.

Fiyero pulled his horse in front of the men, blocking them off and giving the Gypsy woman time to escape. The woman ducked behind a street corner to watch the scene unfold. One of the guards crumpled on the street directly behind Achilles. With a sinister smile, Fiyero looked at his horse.

"Achilles, sit," he ordered.

The horse plopped his rump right on top of the guard. The guard shrieked, thrashing about from under the horse.

"Get it off of me! Get it off!" he cried.

"Oh, I am so sorry!" Fiyero said with a hint of sarcasm. "Naughty horse!" he said, pointing disapprovingly at Achilles. He snorted. "You just can't take him anywhere. Seriously, no manners whatsoever, you bad, bad horse."

The woman laughed, and slipped away.

"I'll teach you manners, peasant!" the other guard said, pulling out his knife.

Fiyero flipped open his cape, whipping out his long steel sword. "You were saying, Lieutenant?"

The guard gasped, quickly putting away his knife. "Captain!" he exclaimed, saluting. "At your service, sir!"

Fiyero bent down to the man who was currently serving as Achille's cushion. "And, I know you're kinda busy, you know with the whole chasing street performers thing, but could you tell me where the Palace of Justice is?"

"Of- Of course, Captain!" the soldier said.

"Good." Fiyero tugged Achilles's reigns, and Achilles stood, freeing the guard from his prison.

"Follow us, we'll take you there at once!" the guard said.

"Make way for the Captain of the Guards!" the other said, and they marched down the streets, peasants scattering back into their shops and homes and out of the way of the famous war hero.

Fiyero saw a couple of coins on the ground. He picked them up, assuming the Gypsy woman must have dropped them. He looked up and saw a suspicious figure huddled off to the side of the road, buried beneath a black cloak. But Fiyero could see a flash of green, and smiled. It was her.

Without breaking step, he walked past her, and dropped the coins at her feet.

The woman pulled back the hood of the cloak, and watched Fiyero walk away. And she smiled.

* * *

A short while later, Fiyero found himself entering a rather grisly and dark building. Once he stepped inside, he immediately recognized it as some sort of dungeon or prison. Fiyero shook his head disapprovingly.

"Some Palace of Justice," he muttered to himself.

He could hear cracks of a whip, undoubltly someone was being tortured. Fiyero shuddered. He never approved of torture. He hated it, and he hated doing it. Shaking his head, he approached the man who was responsible for calling him home from the wars. Minister Ozymandias.

"Ah, Captain Fiyero, good to see you," he said warmly. "Your reputation precedes you. An excellent soldier and a fine captain."

"Thank you, sir," he said, standing at attention.

"I expect nothing but the best from you."

"And you shall have it," Fiyero said resolutely.

"My last guard was a bit of a disappointment," Ozymandias said slowly. "But I am sure you can, ah, _whip_ my men into shape?" he laughed as another crack of the whip filled the air. Fiyero inwardly shuddered. "I hear they have an interesting nickname for you back at the warfront," Ozymandias continued with a smile. Fiyero rolled his eyes.

"Ah, that? I'm not particularly fond of it," he said.

"I think it strikes a certain chord of fear in the people's hearts!" Ozymandias said. "Captain Scarecrow. Able to terrify his enemies into surrender."

"It's nothing."

"I hope you live up to that name, however."

"What do you mean?"

"Come." Ozymandias said, leading him out of the dungeons and out onto a balcony that overlooked the city. "You have come to the Emerald City in her darkest hour. A heathen group of savages are invading our city and corrupting the minds of the devout."

"And these people are . . . ?"

"Gypsies," Ozymandias said venemously. "Look at them! Their barbaric rituals fester in the people's lowest instincts. And they must be stopped!"

"You summoned me from the wars to capture fortune tellers and palm readers?!" Fiyero said furiously.

"Ah, Captain, the real war is here," Ozymandias said, gesturing to the city. Not more than three blocks away, a crowd had gathered to watch some of these Gypsies dancing and playing exotic instuments. "For over twenty years I have been eliminating this threat one by one. Yet they thrive. I have heard rumors among the commoners that these Gypsies have a safe haven, a nest, if you will. They call it the 'Court of Miracles.' It is our duty to find it, and destroy them all once and for all."

"Sounds a little drastic for a seeminly harmless lot," Fiyero observed.

"'Seemingly.'" Ozymandias said with a scowl. "You do not know what they are capable of, but I do. They must be taken care of and rid from this city."

"Of course, sir."

Just then, a loud fanfare erupted in the center of the city, followed by a cheer from the commoners. Ozymandias sighed heavily.

"Ah, duty calls. Have you ever attended a peasant festival, Fiyero?"

_I've been gone at war for the past six years. What do you think?_ Fiyero thought. "Not recently, sir."

"Then this shall be an educational moment. Come."

* * *

Boq looked down at the city below him. The Festival of Fools would be starting soon, and he didn't want to miss it. But he was still nervous. What if he got caught? Or heaven help him, what if Ozymandias saw him?

"Ah, Victor, what do you think?" he asked the stone gargoyle seated next to him on the cathedral's ledge.

Silence. Stone couldn't talk, of course, but he could imagine his granite friend giving him encouraging words.

_It will be a most enjoyable occasion! You should go! Enjoy yourself! Surround yourself with cultural experience!_

"But what if Ozymandias were to-"

_Disguise! Masks! No one will ever know!_

"But what if someone bumps up against me and finds out I'm as hard as, well, metal?"

_Think! You're an intelligent being! I am sure you can think of a good excuse._

" 'Oh, whoops, my bad. Oh, I feel as hard as metal? Why there's a perfectly reasonable explanation for that! I have excellent muscle tone!' " Boq said sarcastically.

_That's the spirit!_

Boq sighed, realizing his friend was right. "Alright! I'll go!" he said excitedly. He grabbed some clothes and quickly pulled them on, some boots, black trousers, gloves, and a grey tunic. Normally, he had no need for clothes, but today, he was going to have to wear them. He didn't mind them, really. As a finishing touch, he grabbed a cloak, and pulled the hood over his head. He quickly and quietly descended the stone staircase and slipped out of the back door of the cathedral. Immediately he was surrounded with music, and hundreds of people in colorful costumes. He pulled the hood tighter over his face, beginning to panic. He had never felt so terrified in his life.

_Someone's going to find me. Someone's going to figure me out and blow my cover and Ozymandias will kill me,_ Boq thought to himself in a panic. From a nearby vendor he grabbed a mask that covered his entire face and tied it on tightly, with the hood still over his head. He sighed with relief.

"There. This should help a bit," he said to himself.

He worked himself to the center of the square, where most of the celebration was taking face. Confetti sprayed through the air, and flags hung all across the town. Gypsy dancers and musicians played music that all the people danced to. Boq felt someone tugging on his sleeve. He turned, and saw a gorgeous blond woman with a slim figure, wearing a pink frilly dress and feathers in her hair.

"Dance with me!" she cried happily, and dragged Boq to the center of the dance circle. Boq tried to pry himself away from the overly-exuberant female, but she wouldn't let him go, apparently enjoying herself too much to notice that her partner was on the brink of a panic-attack.

"What's your name?" she asked over the thunderous music.

"B-B-Boq," he stuttered weakly.

"I'm Glinda!"

"Hi, Glinda," he said.

"Hi, Boq!" she said with a giggle. "So you like dancing?" she asked as she spun him around in a circle.

"Not really. I'm kind of a clutz," he said shyly.

"You need to relax!" She flung him down on a bench and began to masage his shoulders.

_Oh crap oh crap oh crap oh crap . . ._ Boq thought, panicked. _She's touching me._

"You have such firm shoulders!" she observed.

"Ugh . . . I have really great muscle tone?" he said weakly.

"I like a nice big, strong man!" she said, sliding around and plopping on his lap. Boq looked for a means for escape.

"I . . . I . . . I really think-" he said, but Glinda put a finger to his mask's lips.

"Shh," she whispered. "Kiss me."

"What?!" Boq practically shrieked.

"Kiss me!" she said, grabbing his mask.

"No!" he said, slapping a hand over his mask before she could take it off. "I . . . uh, lost a bet with a friend and I . . . um . . . can't take the mask off for the rest of the day."

"Oh, that's a shame," she said, disappointed. "Oh well!" She planted him a big kiss on his mask's cheek. Boq went rigid, and Glinda gave him a wave and disappeared back into the crowds.

He slumped in the bench.

"A girl just kissed me," he whispered to himself. He grinned. "This is without a doubt the greatest day of my life!"

* * *

**So there's Glinda, for all of you who were wondering, lol.**

**And Fiyero's nickname . . . I couldn't resist XD**

**Did you know that in the Disney movie, the two guy gargoyles' names are Victor and Hugo? VICTOR HUGO, get it?!? The author of the book, The Hunchback of Notre Dame! AHAHAHAHA!**

**. . . ok, then.**


	4. All Hail The King

Boq had never felt so . . . so _alive_!

He was feeling much more relaxed, allowing himself to dance and sing along with the musicians. He blended in perfectly with the hundreds of townsfolk in their bright and intricate costumes. No one was paying him any attention, and he started to feel . . . _normal_.

He sighed. Ozymandias was wrong. The world was a wonderful place. What was he doing, wasting away his life up in the bell towers? He should be down here, with the common folk, singing and dancing and having a good time.

He did, however, notice Ozymandias's coach pull up, and he watched his master step up on the stage where he seated himself to watch the upcoming performance. And he brought his guards. A man led them, wearing silver armor, and a stern look in his eyes. Boq had never seen this man before, but he suspected who it was.

_That must be the Captain of the Guards Ozymandias talks so highly of,_ Boq thought to himself. _What was his name, Philip? Figaro? Something like that . . ._

He took a few cautious steps backwards, and tripped over a rope. He fell over backwards and crashed into one of the tents, causing the occupant to cry out in surprise. His mask flew off as he fell.

_Oh no! My mask!_ he thought frantically.

"Hey, are you ok?" a woman's voice asked kindly.

Boq dared to look up at the speaker, pulling his cloak's hood over his face as he did so. "I am so sorry, miss," he said uneasily. "I just tripped and-"

"You're not hurt, are you?" she persisted.

Boq gazed up at the beautiful woman in front of her. Long black hair, soft brown eyes, a thin, slender figure . . . and skin as green as emeralds. Boq assumed it was just an elaborate display of painting, only make-up. Of course no one could have such phosphorescent skin tone.

"Of course not," he said quickly, rising to his feet.

"Here, let me have a look," she said, pulling Boq's hands away from his face.

"No! I-I--no!" he pleaded frantically, but she pulled his hood away, and looked upon his metal face. But she did not cower or turn away in disgust. Instead, she smiled warmly at him.

"See? No harm done," she said, and ushered Boq kindly out of the tent. "Just try to be more careful, alright?"

Boq grinned. "I will!" he said. This creature in front of him could not possibly be a human being. She was too beautiful, too warm and kind hearted . . . she had to be an angel.

"By the way, great mask!" she said, giving him a wink before she pulled the tent curtain closed.

Boq's smile grew. She was most definitely an angel.

And Ferdinan was right! No one would ever suspect him!

"And now! It is time for me to present the most mysterious and skilled dancer you shall ever meet! Who will make an entrance sure to enchant all who gaze upon her!" a Gypsy called out, whom Boq knew went by the name of Avaric. He was supposedly the leader of the Gypsies, and the head of the festival's celebration. "May I present the fair and wondrous Lady ELPHABAAAAA!"

He threw a bag at his feet, which exploded into a giant cloud of red smoke, surrounding him. And out of the smoke burst forth the same woman Boq met only moments ago. She was wearing an absolutely stunning black dress framed in golden trimming, decorated with red scarves and sashes tied around her hips, sleeves, and chest. She gracefully swirled around the stage, her form perfect, her movements flawless.

Boq was indeed entranced.

Meanwhile, Ozymandias stared at the emerald-skinned dancer in revolt. "Look at that disgusting display!" he growled.

"Yes sir!" Fiyero said, staring longingly at the dancer. God, she was _gorgeous_.

She continued to spin and dance around the stage, before she made her way down the stage towards Ozymandias, performing a stunning display of cartwheels as she did so. She leapt on the arm of Ozymandias's chair and wrapped a scarf around his neck, pulling him close. She then proceeded to smack his hat down over his eyes, and jumped away, doing back flips as she did so. She finished her dance with an excellent display of agility by doing the splits, winking at Boq as she did so.

If he could, he would have blushed.

"Ah! A most beautiful performance, no?" Avaric cried. "But now, it is time for the _piece de resistance_! The moment you've all been waiting for! We will now crown the king of fools! So make a face that is both hideous and frightening! Ugly folks, don't be shy, for soon you may be called Your Highness!" Several other people wearing masks pulled themselves on stage, and much to Boq's surprise, the dancer, Elphaba, extended her emerald hand to him, and pulled him up on stage as well.

Boq did so, too caught up in the excitement. He did not even notice that he had forgotten to put back on his mask after his stumble into Elphaba's tent.

A small goat trodded over to Elphaba's side, and Elphaba promptly threw off the first man's mask. He made a funny face with his eyes all screwed up, but the crowd booed disapprovingly. The goat then butted the man off the stage. One by one the men were unmasked, and each time the crowd would boo at them for their pathetic attempts to make the most ugly face in the Emerald City.

Finally, Elphaba came up to Boq, and grabbed the sides of his face, vainly trying to find where his mask ended. After tugging his metal jaws to try to pry off his "mask," her eyes went wide with a horrible realization.

"You're not wearing a mask," she whispered with alarm. She jumped backwards in surprise, and the crowds gasped as they too realized the truth.

"That's no mask!" one villager said, terrified.

"That's his face!" a woman shrieked.

"It's the bell ringer of Notre Dame!" another cried.

Ozymandias stood slowly, staring at him in horror and disbelief. No, it couldn't be! It could not possibly be him! That traitorous monstrosity dared disobey him?!

"Well, this is interesting," Fiyero mused.

Boq could feel the eyes of the citizens glaring at him, staring at his metal skin in terror. Boq could feel himself take a step backwards, humiliated and ashamed. The people were terrified of him!

"People! Let us not panic!" Avaric cried. "We asked for the ugliest face in all of the Emerald City, and here it is!" The crowds slowly began to smile, their expressions of terror slowly melting away. "What is your name, tin man?" Avaric asked him.

"Boq," he answered quietly.

"ALL HAIL BOQ! THE TIN MAN OF NOTRE DAME!" Avaric cried, placing a rather goofy-looking hat on top of Boq's head. The people burst into excited cheers, and in one well-coordinated movement, several of the people raised his bulk above their heads and onto a chair, which four men carried on their shoulders. The people cheered loudly as the men marched Boq down the center of the square, and to another stage. Here, Avaric draped a very fancy-looking cape around Boq's shoulders and gave him a royal scepter, fake, of course. But Boq had never felt so honored.

It was the first time in his entire life he could remember being truly happy.

"Boq! Boq! Boq! Boq!" the people chanted in unison. Boq waved back, grinning widely and thumping his fist in the air in triumph. He was a king!

A guard, rather repulsed by the display, smiled wickedly as he tossed a tomato to himself. "They think he's ugly now," he sneered to his comrade. "Well, wait 'till they see _this_!"

He chucked the tomato straight at Boq. It splattered across his entire face on impact. The crowds gasped in disbelief, the cheers dying down almost immediately. Boq placed a hand to his face and wiped away the juices. He felt an impending sense of dread creep across his very being.

_No, this isn't supposed to happen! This can't be happening! _Boq thought desperately.

"All hail the King!" another guard laughed, hurling yet another tomato at Boq. Boq raised his arm to shield himself. He was beginning to grow humiliated, and terrified. He had to get out of there!

He tried to run off the stage, but his foot slipped, and he crashed on his back, hard. The crowds roared with cruel laughter. Boq pushed himself to his feet, desperately wanting to escape, wanting nothing more than to return to his sanctuary, the bell towers.

_He was wrong . . ._

"Where are you going, metal man? The party's just starting!" someone in the crowds roared cruelly, throwing a rope around his neck. Boq slipped, crashing to his knees, and the peasant tugged harder, forcing him back down to the floor. More ropes appeared and tied down his arms. In a furious rage, Boq tugged against the rope with his immense strength, and they snapped easily, but only more ropes appeared. Soon other peasants stormed the stage to tie him down, completely immovable. They tied him on top of a rotating platform, and they spun him around, all the while the crowds hurling eggs, tomatoes, and whatever else they could get their hands on.

Fiyero was thoroughly horrified. He had never seen such a dishonorable act before. "Sir Ozymandias," he said. "Permission to end this cruelty?"

"No," he said in a flat, dead voice.

Fiyero grew furious. "Sir! They are torturing this poor creature!"

"Open your eyes, foolish boy," he said. "That thing is nothing but a metal machine. It cannot feel emotions. It does not sense pain."

Fiyero was livid. Even from where he was standing, he could see the fear, the humiliation, and the pain in the metal being's silver eyes. Clearly, whatever that thing was, it could feel pain. How could Ozymandias be so blind?

"Master! Master!! Please help me!" the metal creature cried out, his voice full of agony. Ozymandias's eyes went wide. He could not pretend to not hear its voice, how human it sounded . . . how it was so full of pain and suffering . . .

Ozymandias looked away.

"Sir!" Fiyero said angrily.

"Do not release him," Ozymandias ordered, his voice quivering with fury. "This thing must learn its lesson. It disobeyed its master, and now it must face the consequences!"

Fiyero had half a mind to completely disregard his orders and free the creature himself, but suddenly, the crowds fell silent. Fiyero turned. It was the dancer, Elphaba. She boldly walked up to the creature, her pose strong and confident.

Boq looked up at her, the sunlight shining off her raven hair. Ashamed of himself, he turned away from her. He could not stand to look at her and see the pity and sadness in her eyes.

She knelt down besides him, untying her silver sash. "Don't be afraid," she said gently. Boq turned ever so slightly and met her gaze. Tears were forming in her brown eyes. Tears for him.

No one had ever cried for him before.

She began to gently wipe his face. "I am so sorry. This wasn't supposed to happen."

Boq closed his eyes. "Thank you," he whispered.

Ozymandias stood, shaking in anger. "Gypsy girl! Get down at once!" he ordered furiously.

"Yes, Your Honor," she said respectfully. "Just as soon as I free this poor creature." She gestured down at Boq.

"I forbid you to do so!" Ozymandias cried.

Ignoring him, Elphaba took out a small knife tied to her leg and cut the ropes that held Boq down. She offered him her hand, and he took it. Elphaba helped Boq to his feet, and brushed off whatever food items were still smeared on his clothing.

"How dare you defy me!" Ozymandias said.

"You speak of justice, but you are cruelest to the ones that are most in need of your help!" Elphaba roared furiously.

"SILENCE!"

"JUSTICE!" Elphaba cried, pounding her fist that clutched the knife towards the heavens. The crowds gasped at her courage. "How could you stand there and speak of justice and purity while you stand there and watch this thing be tortured, _Your Honor_?!"

"Mark my words, you will rue the day you defied me!" Ozymandias said, pointing a long finger at her. "I am guiltless of any crimes you accuse me of!"

"Well, it is clear to me that we crowned the wrong fool today!" Elphaba said, taking off Boq's crown. "The only fool I see is _you_!" She threw the crown at Ozymandias's feet.

"Captain! Arrest her!" he ordered.

Fiyero snapped his fingers and waved his guards onwards, and the ten men that escorted Ozymandias to the festival surrounded Elphaba.

"Let's see . . . one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine . . ." she muttered to herself as she counted the guards swarming around her. "So there's ten of you and only one of me. Oh, good heaven, what's a girl to do?" she said, her voice breaking out into a soft sob. She pulled out a handkerchief and dabbed her eye. And when she went to blow her nose, a red plume of smoke erupted around her, and she vanished into thin air.

"Witchcraft!" Ozymandias said icily. That woman was a witch, and mut be captured and killed, lest she cast her spell on more of the innoent people of Oz!

"Oh, bo-oys!" a voice cooed teasingly.

Fiyero whipped around. It was her, standing on top of a cart about thirty meters from the stage she was just on.

"Get her!" one of the guards cried.

Three of the guards charged her, running full speed on their horses. Elphaba grabbed a nearby staff, and leapt off the crate, swinging the staff around and tripping the horses just enough so the guards fell off their horses. She twirled the staff around in her hands skillfully, and delivered a powerful blow to each of the men's skull, dazing them enough so they stumbled to the ground.

Two more ran at her, brandishing their swords and spears. Elphaba quickly climbed to the top of a nearby caravan and jabbed the butt of the staff at one of the guards, knocking him off his horse. The other guard sliced his sword at Elphaba's staff, shattering it to pieces. Elphaba simply untied another one of her many sashes and whipped it at the guard, covering his eyes. As the guard clawed at the sash over his eyes, Elphaba delivered a swift and painful blow to his groin.

"What a woman!" Fiyero said as he watched the Gypsy woman fight back his entire squadron single-handedly.

The other five quickly surrounded her, backing her against a brick wall of a building. Elphaba's little goat bravely tromped to her side, and she scooped the goat up in her arms.

"Oh good god, what is that?!" Elphaba shrieked suddenly, pointing behind the guards.

"Where?!" they asked, whipping around to see what she was pointing at. But there was nothing there. The guards turned back around, and froze.

She was gone, vanished into thin air.

And a little leaf of paper lay in the spot she just stood moments before. It read:

_Made you look._

* * *

Ozymandias was livid with rage.

That the witch got away. That ten guards were incapable of catching that rebellious Gypsy wretch! That his servant had directly disobeyed his command!!

Speaking of which, Boq stood in the same spot as when the green-skinned woman released him. Ozymandias glared furiously at the metal creature. He could see him cower in fear. Ozymandias's heart lurched, his anger continuing to grow.

No, it could not feel emotions! It could not know fear or humiliation!!

But the look in Boq's eyes was too familiar to deny. Too _human_.

That monster had lied to him as well!

He thought he had squashed out all remnants of Boq's human life, all memories, all connections, and all feelings. He thought that Boq was nothing more than a mindless drone. But he could see that Boq was much more human than Ozymandias liked.

His heart burned with rage.

He mounted his horse, his eyes never leaving Boq. "Captain!" he barked.

"Yes, Minister Ozymandias?" Fiyero said tenitively, riding besides him.

"Search the entire area! Find that witch and bring her to me alive!" he snarled. "As for myself, I have a certain disobedient _slave_ I need to take care of."

Fiyero followed Oz's gaze, to Boq. Fiyero gave Oz a disapproving look, not liking where Ozymandias was going. "Sir, if I may-" he began, but Oz cut him off.

"No you may not!" he shot angrily. "Find the Gypsy girl! _Now_!"

Fiyero kicked his horse, giving his guards orders and beginning his search. But he looked over his shoulder, at Ozymandias and the metal creature. He could see Ozymandias follow Boq as he made his way back to Notre Dame, the people scuttling out of his way and drawing back in fear.

Boq kept his eyes cast downward, unable to even look up at his master or anyone else. He could hear them whispering, insulting him. The clip-clop of Ozymandias's horse followed him, like an evil spirit, tormenting him, driving him mad with fear. Boq opened the doors and stepped inside, in his beloved sanctuary.

But he was anything but safe from Ozymandias's wrath.

"We have much to discuss, don't we, slave?" Ozymandias snarled coldly, slamming the doors shut behind him.

Boq lowered his head, awaiting whatever cruel punishment Ozymandias had in mind for him.


	5. God Help The Outcasts

Ozymandias could hardly contain his anger at that metal creature any longer. "Fifteen years, you've lied to me," he said in a low and dangerous voice. "Fifteen years, you tricked me!"

"Only for you! I was only trying to please you!" Boq pleaded desperately.

"SILENCE!" Ozymandias roared. Boq recoiled. "I was so sure I had squashed out whatever humanity was left in you. I was so convinced that you were nothing more than my mindless servant! But I was wrong, wasn't I?!"

"I'm not just a mindless servant," Boq said, his words braver than what he felt right now. "I still have feelings-"

"ONLY HUMANS CAN FEEL EMOTION!" Ozymandias roared. He grabbed the collar of Boq's tunic and dragged him over to a basin filled with Holy Water. "LOOK AT YOURSELF!" he screamed, shoving Boq's face towards the water. "WHAT DO YOU SEE?!"

"A-a metal machine," Boq said weakly, looking down at his own reflection in the water.

"Are machines human?!"

"No, they are not," Boq replied thickly.

"Don't you understand?! You are not a human! You are nothing more than a pile of metal scraps! You can not feel emotions!" Ozymandias cried. He inhaled deeply. "You are little more than a simple minded child! You must be rewarded when you are obedient, and punished when you disobey me!"

Boq's eyes went wide with terror. "Please, Master! I have been punished enough as it is! Don't rust my jaw shut, please, anything but that!"

"You have left me with no choice!" Ozymandias said. And with that, he viciously grabbed Boq's neck and slammed his head into the basin of water. Boq tried to push back against him, but his efforts were half-hearted. He knew he must be punished for what he did today. He disobeyed his Master.

Ozymandias released his grip around Boq's neck. The water made quick work out of Boq's tin shell; his jaw had rusted solid. Boq could only look at his master with a mix of immense sadness and fear.

Even more evidence Boqwas still somewhat human.

Ozymandias couldn't stand the sight of him. "Get out of here! And out of my sight!" Ozymandias roared.

Boq all-too willingly fled up the spiral staircase, and back to his sanctuary, the bell towers.

* * *

Fiyero had watched Ozymandias enter the cathedral, and he followed closely behind, sticking to the shadows and hiding behind the pillars of the cathedral. He knew if Ozymandias saw him, he'd be stripped of his title, or worse.

But he wanted to know exactly what this thing was, or even, who it was.

He had seen everything, but only caught a few words of their conversation here and there.

He had watched Ozymandias shove the metal man's face into the basin of water, and his head emerged seconds later, completely rusted. Fiyero's eyes widened. How could Ozymandias be so cruel?

He was beginning to wonder if being this Minister's Captain of the Guards was a good idea.

The tin man fled up a flight of stairs and out of sight, while Ozymandias stormed out one of the side doors. Fiyero was about to exit the church as well, but he heard the main doors creak open behind him.

It was her, the Gypsy dancer!

Fiyero's heart thumped wildly in his chest, and he followed her closely as she walked around the cathedral, captivated by Notre Dame's beauty.

But she knew he was there. She whipped around, grabbing Fiyero's sword and tossing him to the ground. She aimed the sword threateningly at his throat.

"Easy, easy now, I just shaved this morning!" he said, flashing her a charming smile.

Elphaba snickered. "Indeed you have," she retorted. "Allow me to give you a complimentary haircut!"

"Ah, but the girls like long hair," Fiyero teased. "But, please, let me explain myself. I want to apologize."

"For what?" Elphaba asked curiously.

Fiyero kicked out her feet from beneath her, knocking her to the ground. She let go of his sword, and he grabbed it. "_That_," he replied.

"You sneaky son of a--" Elphaba swore, but Fiyero cut her off.

"Ah, ah, ah, watch it. We're in a church," he said seriously.

"Are you always so charming, or am I just lucky?" Elphaba said, picking up a large candelabra and swinging it dangerously at Fiyero.

"You caught me on a very good day," Fiyero retorted, easily parrying the candelabra. Elphaba swung again, and the two were immersed in a duel, steel clashing against steel. "Ah! Candlelight! Music! Solitude! Can't think of a better place for hand-to-hand combat!" Fiyero said playfully as they fought. Elphaba struck again, almost striking Fiyero. He was impressed. "You fight almost as well as a man!"

"Oh! What a coincidence, I was going to say the same thing about you!" Elphaba quipped.

"That's hitting a little below the belt, don't you think?" Fiyero said, pushing back against Elphaba's candelabra.

"No, this is!" she said, swinging for the spot just below his belt. Fiyero managed to block it before the candelabra hit him, but Elphaba swung the other end up and smacked him hard in the head. Fiyero was jarred, but shook it off easily.

"Touche," he responded with a smile.

Suddenly, Elphaba's little goat butted him in the stomach, completely catching him off guard. He coughed, rubbing his stomach. Good thing he was wearing armor.

"I didn't know you had a kid," he laughed, pointing at the goat with his sword.

"Yeah, I don't like guards!" the goat said.

Fiyero's jaw dropped. "Did-did that goat just _talk_?!"

"Of course he did! He's an Animal of course!" Elphaba said. "So he's a Goat! Not a goat!"

"Ok . . . and you are . . . ?" Fiyero asked the Goat.

"Dillamond! But that's _Doctor_ Dillamond to you, mister _Captain of the Guards_!" the Goat snapped.

Fiyero raised an eyebrow. "Ok, um, _doctor_, permit me, but I'm Fiyero."

Elphaba and Dillamond just stared at him, exchanging quick glances.

"And you are . . . ?" he asked.

"Is this an interrogation?" Elphaba said coldly.

"I think it's actually called an introduction," Fiyero said, putting his sword back in its sheath.

"You're not arresting me?" Elphaba asked, perplexed.

"As long as you're in here, I can't. Sacred ground and the whole shabang, you know," Fiyero said, waving his hand.

"Huh. You're not at all like the other guards," she said, putting down the candelabra.

"Thank you."

"So, if you're not here to arrest me, what are you here for?" Elphaba asked.

"How about your name?"

She smiled. "My name is Elphaba."

"Very beautiful," Fiyero said, smiling as well. "And, heh, a whole lot prettier than Fiyero, anyway."

"I . . . I actually think Fiyero is a very . . . charming name," Elphaba said. Dillamond shot Elphaba a disapproving look.

Fiyero took a small step toward the green-skinned goddess standing before him. "That's a very kind thing for you to say."

"Life's full of surprises, isn't it?" she said, also taking a step closer to Fiyero.

"Yes, it is."

They were so close, their lips almost touching. Fiyero was about to go for the kiss when the doors suddenly burst open.

"Excellent work, Captain!" Ozymandias said proudly. "Now arrest her!"

Fiyero turned back to Elphaba, thinking quickly. "Claim sanctuary!" he whispered to her.

Elphaba's gaze hardened. "You tricked me!" she snarled.

"No I didn't!" he said in a whisper. "Say it! Claim sanctuary!"

Elphaba's gaze only grew colder.

"I'm waiting, Captain," Ozymandias said impatiently.

"I am sorry, sir," he said, turning to face Ozymandias. "But she has claimed sanctuary. There's nothing I can do."

Ozymandias gritted his teeth. He had half a mind to drag that witch out of the cathedral, but there were sacred and holy laws he could not break. And he could not break the sanctity of the church, lest his immortal soul burn in hell for all eternity. He slowly approached the Gypsy girl, clenching his fists.

"Captain, wait with the men outside. Post a guard at every door!" he ordered.

Fiyero saluted. "Yes, sir." He marched out the door, giving Elphaba an apologetic look before he left.

Once they were alone, Ozymandias circled the Gypsy like a hawk circling its prey. "You think you've outwitted me! But I am a patient man. And Gypsies don't do well behind stone walls!" He grabbed her, and his eyes fell upon her sleek and shining midnight hair. He pressed his face into her hair, and inhaled her scent deeply.

"What are you doing?!" Elphaba said viciously.

"I was just imagining a rope, tied around this pretty little neck of yours!" he said, clutching her neck with his hand.

Elphaba pulled away, disgusted. "I know what you were _imagining_!"

Ozymandias smiled. "Such a clever little witch. So typical of you Gypsy savages to twist the mind and fill it with unholy thoughts!" Ozymandias snarled. He turned to leave. "You've chosen a marvelous prison, but it is a prison nonetheless. If you set just one foot outside, you're _mine_!"

The door slammed shut behind him. Elphaba turned and ran to the nearest door, opening it slightly. Already guards were stationed, and he could hear them talking to each other.

"Guard all the doors! Make sure she cannot escape!" they were saying.

Elphaba slammed the door shut, groaning in frustration.

"What do we do now, Miss Elphaba?" Dillamond asked worriedly.

"Don't worry, we'll find a way out of here," she said. "Oz can't keep us locked in here forever!"

"I would advise against acting rashly, my child," the Arch Deacon, Ferdinan said, approaching Elphaba. He smiled. "I heard about your little problem, and I welcome you to stay in the cathedral as long as you wish."

"I can't stay here," she said.

"You created quite a stir at the festival today," Ferdinan said with a wide smile. "And after upsetting Ozymandias, it would be very unwise indeed to enrage him further."

"But you saw what he did out there!" Elphaba said, pointing towards the door. "Letting the crowds torture that poor thing! I thought if just one person could stand up to him--!" she sighed, her shoulders slumping to her side. "What do people have against the ones who are different, anyway?!" she asked, frustrated.

"You can't right all the wrongs of the world on your own, my child," he said softly.

"Well, no one out there is gonna help, that's for sure," she said stiffly.

Ferdinan smiled. "Then maybe, someone in _here_ can help." He walked away, leaving Elphaba standing in the middle of the cathedral. All around her, people were on their knees and praying. Elphaba sighed, looking up at a statue of a woman, holding an infant child. It was a statue of the two most important icons of the religion the Wizard had brought to the land of Oz. Mary, ever-virgin, and the savior, Jesus Christ.

Elphaba closed her eyes, remembering a lulabye her mother used to sing her when she was only a child, a song her mother taught her just before she died.

_"I don't know if you can hear me, or if you're even there,"_ Elphaba sang gently. _"I don't know if you would listen to a Gypsy's prayer. Yes I know I'm just an outcast, I shouldn't speak to you. Still I see your face and wonder, were you once an outcast, too?"_

Up, high in the rafters of the bell tower, Boq heard her voice. He heard her sing, and was captivated by how beautiful her voice was. Cautiously, he leaned across the rafters, and gazed down at the emerald woman.

_"God help the outcasts, hungry from birth,"_ she continued, her voice growing even more beautiful. _"Show them the mercy they don't find on earth. God help my people, we look to you still. God help the outcasts, or nobody will."_

Boq descended the staircase slowly, wanting to get a better look at the beautiful Gypsy. He ducked behind a corner and watched her, closing his eyes to listen to her magnificent voice.

As Elphaba slowly mader her way aroundthe cathedral, she could hear the other's prayers. One was praying for wealth, another for fame. Yet another was asking for glory, and one more was asking for companionship and love. They all cried out for the Unnamed God to bless them and send forth His angels. Elphaba shook her head, angry at their selfish prayers.

_"I ask for nothing. I can get by. But I know so many less lucky than I. Please help my people, the poor and down-trod. I thought we all were children of God. God help the outcasts, children of God."_

Elphaba stared longlingly up at the Rose Window, lost in her song. Dillamnd nudged her leg comfortingly, and Elphaba bent to her knee, wrapping her arms around the Goat's neck. Boq tried to smile, but his rusted jaw would not even allow him that. Despite that, he truly enjoyed listening to her sing. Her voice was more beautiful than all the church bells combined. He leaned against the pillars, hidden in the shadows, watching her.

How he wanted to say something . . .

"You there! Bell ringer!" one of the peasants in the church cried angrily at Boq.

Boq jumped in surprise, knocking over a candelabra as he did so. He quickly picked it up, backing against the wall in fear as he did so.

"What are you doing down here?!" the peasant barked. Boq clambered back up the staircase quickly, away from the angry peasants. "Haven't you caused enough trouble already?"

"Wait!" Elphaba called, chasing after him. She started up the spiral staircase, and caught a flash of silver out of the corner of her eye.

It was him!

Bravely, she ran up the staircases after him. She was going to find out who this mysterious creature was.

* * *

**And Doctor Dillamond makes an appearance! Lol!**

**Ah . . . Fiyero and Elphaba were so totally made for each other.**


	6. The Tin Man's Heart

**OH MY GOD, GUYS YOUR RESPONSE TO THIS STORY IS INCREDIBLE!!**

**Thank you all so much for your wonderful reviews, your story faves, story alerts, etc. YOU ARE AWESOME!!!!**

* * *

"Miss Elphaba, do you really think this is wise?" Dillamon panted as he raced up the stairs behind Elphaba.

"I have to know, Dilly," she said. "I need to know who that person is!"

"It's only a metal machine! You saw it yourself!" Dillamond snapped. "And don't call me Dilly!"

"It's not a machine!" Elphaba said, looking over her shoulder at the Goat. "You didn't see the look in his eye . . . no, there's something about that creature that I have to know!"

She raced up the staircase, catching brief glimpses of silver, just barely out of view.

"Wait, please! I just want to talk to you!" she called out after him. She could hear his thunderous footsteps slowly fade, then stop all together.

She reached the top of the stair case, slightly out of breath. She scanned the room, looking for him. And she saw him, standing off to the side, still as a statue, looking at her emotionless. Gathering up her courage, she approached him.

"I am so sorry about what happened at the festival," she said softly. "Had I known what you really were, I would have never had dreamed of pulling you up on that stage." The metal man's eyes softened, and he nodded slowly, accepting her apology. She smiled. "You are a mysterious creature, you know that, right? Your name is Boq, right?"

He nodded once again.

She laughed. "It's ok, you can talk to me, you know?"

Boq lowered his head, shaking it sadly. Elphaba grew concerned.

"Why can't you talk to me?" she asked. Boq pointed to his jaw. It was only then she noticed that his jaw was rusted solid. She gasped. "Oh, good God, how-- who did this to you?!" she asked him.

He raised a metal eyebrow.

"Right, never mind answering that right now, I'll go fix you up," she said hurriedly. "Um . . . oil! You need oil, right?"

He nodded.

"Don't move, I'll be right back," she said, and bolted, looking around the room for anything that might resemble an oil can, but she had no such luck.

_Maybe the Arch Deacon would have some,_ she thought to herself. She raced down the stairs, and half-way down, she almost ran straight into Ferdinan.

He smiled at her. "Looking for this?" he asked kindly, handing her a small oil can.

She took it, studying him quizzically. "Thank you," she said slowly. "But how did you know?"

He only continued to smile, and turned around and descended the spiral staircase. Elphaba shrugged it off and raced back to Boq, who hadn't moved since she left him, thankfully.

She raised her arms, offering him the oil can. "Do you want me to do it or can you do it yourself?" she asked.

To her surprise, Boq backed away, shaking his head.

"What's wrong?" she asked him. "You don't have to be afraid, I'm not going to hurt you."

Boq stopped, looking around the room nervously. Finally, he lowered his head and leaned towards her, silently urging her to oil his jaw. She did so, and she could hear his jaw hinges squeak in protest, but after moving them around for a bit, his jaws were as good as new.

"Thank you very much, you are very kind," he said, smiling.

"How did your jaw rust so quickly?" Elphaba asked. "I was talking to you perfectly fine not too long ago. Metal can't rust that fast."

"Maybe not normal metal, but I'm . . . _enchanted_ metal, for lack of better words," he said slowly. "Water rusts me just as easily as fire burns your skin." He smirked. "I learned that the hard way."

"But who would do something so cruel to you?" she persisted.

"My Master," he said. "And I deserved it. He forbid me from ever leaving the bell towers. But I deliberately disobeyed his orders."

"Who?" she asked.

"Ozymandias."

"That corrupt and unjust tyrant is your master?!" Elphaba asked.

"He is the furthest thing from such accusations," he said hotly, turning to lean against the balcony railings. "He has been very kind to me over all these years. Teaching me, raising me, giving me a place to stay, and he even _loved_ me. Before all _this_ happened, of course," he added under his breath.

"Before all _what_ happened?" Elphaba said, snapping to attention.

Boq thought she hadn't heard that part, and he began to panic. She couldn't know what he really was.

"Before the festival, of course," he said quickly. "Before I disobeyed my master."

Elphaba looked him straight in the eye, clearly not buying his story. "Boq . . ." she said.

"Listen, that's all I meant. Nothing more, I swear," he said.

"How come I don't believe that?" she said, her voice quiet and comforting, yet forceful.

Boq sighed, his shoulders slumping to his side. "I . . . I can't," he said. "You won't like it."

Elphaba placed a hand to his cheek. Boq looked straight into her beautiful brown eyes. And he felt . . . safe.

"It's ok. You can trust me," she whispered, stroking the side of his face. "Now tell me. What happened to you?"

He inhaled deeply, his tin shoulders rising. "It all started a long time ago, when I was an infant."

"An infant?" Elphaba said. "So . . . are you saying--"

"Yes," he said. "At one point in my life . . . I was human."

Elphaba's eyes went wide, but she said nothing. Boq exhaled slowly, and continued his story.

"I can only blame myself for what happened to me," he said. "Anyway, Ozymandias found me when I was a baby, and took me in and raised me as his own. He taught me everything he knew; math, grammar, even politics. He also taught me . . . to hate Gypsies."

"What?" Elphaba said, if a little fiercely.

"He told me they were thieves and tricksters and could not be trusted," he said, closing his eyes. "And one day, he took me out to the market . . . and I saw this little Gypsy boy, barely older than myself at the time . . . and I beat him. Horribly."

Elphaba took a step backwards. "How could you?"

"I did not question my Master! I only did what he told me to do!" Boq snapped, grief-stricken. He was ashamed of what he did. It was a horrible thing to do, and he paid the consequences. He lowered his head, evading Elphaba's gaze.

"And that's not the worst of it. I went home and I went to sleep. I woke in the dead of night . . . feeling incredibly cold and heavy. And empty. Like I had no soul left inside of me." He turned, looking straight at Elphaba. "I woke up to find myself transformed into this hideous monstrosity. I screamed, and Ozymandias rushed to my side. I will never forget his face when he saw me . . ." Boq trailed off, his eyes filled with such immense saddness. "He was so terrified of me. I remember asking him what was wrong with me. What happened to me. And that's when he told me the truth. All my life I thought Ozymandias was my true father. I never questioned it. But that night he told me that he was not my father, that he only found me after arresting a band of Gypsies. He thought that the Gypsies kidnapped me from my true parents, and he pitied me. He had lied to me since I was taken in. I cried for the first time in my entire life. I wept so hard I rusted myself solid." He paused, recollecting his thoughts and fighting back the wave of painful emotions and memories. "Hence, how I found out I can rust so easily the hard way."

Elphaba listened intently, shocked to hear such a tragic story. "How old were you?" she asked in a voice hardly louder than a whisper.

"I was seven."

"Seven years old," she said, shaking her head. She threw her arms aound his neck, wrapping him in a tight embrace. "Oh, god, Boq, I am so sorry."

He stiffened slightly, but slowly wrapped one of his tin limbs around her delicate frame. "It's ok, you couldn't have known."

"What happened then?"

"Like I said, I rusted myself solid. I couldn't move or call for help. I stayed in my room, completely immobile, for five months. Finally, Ozymandias worked up the courage to face me. He oiled my joints so I could move again, and he quickly took me here. He forbid me from ever leaving the bell tower. And for the past fifteen years, here I've stayed. I ring the bells for Mass and take care of them, polishing and dusting them." He pause, looking at Elphaba. "You want to see them?"

"Of course I do," she said gently.

"Follow me!" he said excitedly. He never had anyone to share the bell tower with, save the pigeons and the gargoyles. He never had a person with him to show off the beautiful bells of Notre Dame.

He led her higher into the rafters, Dillamond slowly and reluctantly following them. She gasped, looking at the dozens of bells suspended in the rafters.

"I never knew there were so many," she said.

"Here we have Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John," he said, pointing to four identically-sized bells all lined in a row. "Quadruples, you know?"

"Named after the four Gospels?" Elphaba said with a grin.

"Of course." He grasped her hand gently in his own, and showed her his two favorites. "And this is Maria!" he said. "And her big sister, Sophia."

Elphaba ducked under the bell. "HELLO!" she called out, and her voice echoed around the bell, creating a beautiful hum.

Boq laughed. "She likes you."

Elphaba ducked out from beneath the bell and studied the tower. "It must be nice getting all this place to yourself. It's a beautiful place, this cathedral."

"I save the best for last," Boq said, holding her hands. "I want to show you something, but it's a secret! Not even Master Ozymandias knows of it." He stared at her intently, but there was kindness behind his gaze. "Can I trust you to keep a secret?"

"Of course you can," she laughed.

"Come." He led her back to the side wall, covered with a thick black curtain. He pulled the curtain away, revealing a very large room filled to the brim with shining metal gears and parts, and even some semi-precious gems lay in a careful pattern on one of the many tables surrounding the room. Along the far end of the room there was a line of beautiful gold and silver clocks, some pocket watches, and even a couple of grandfather clocks.

"What is this?" Elphaba asked, star-struck.

"I have a lot of free time on my hands, not needing to sleep or anything," Boq said shyly. "So I learned how to make watches and clocks."

"You made these all yourself?!" Elphaba gasped. "This is incredible!"

"Ferdinan was very willing to supply me with the parts. I give him the finished product, and he sells them. All the money I earn goes towards buying more pieces and funds for the church," Boq said.

"That's very generous of you," Elphaba observed. She picked up a pocketwatch that fit comfortably in the palm of her hand. "These are very beautiful."

"It's not like I can go out on the streets and buy anything for myself," Boq said. The words were meant to be innocent and playful, but Elphaba could notice all too well the sadness in his voice.

"But there's one that's very special, and one I've been working on for a very long time," Boq said, motioning over to the corner of the room. Elphaba followed him. "This one, I plan on being my finest clock yet."

Elphaba gazed upon the clock in wonder. Its exterior was made of red opaque glass, framed and decorated with gold. On the inside was a beautiful and intricate display of mechanics. Silver and god gears were interlaced perfectly. Small diamonds and rubies were precariously placed in the centers of the larger gears, sparkling beautifully. An opal clock was placed in the center of the exterior shell.

Which was shaped like a heart.

"This is my heart," Boq said. "I thought that maybe, if I found someone special, I could give this to her. It would be a way to show her that I care about her."

"That's very romantic and sweet," Elphaba said. "But why do you need this artificial heart?"

"Because I cannot give her my real heart, since I lost it when I transformed into this," Boq said sadly, motioning to himself. "I don't have a real heart anymore. Without one, I can't love."

Elphaba raised her eyebrows, surprised to hear this. "Boq, that is probably the most idiotic thing I have ever heard," she said sharply.

Boq flinched, but grew angry. He grabbed her hands and pressed them against his chest, over where his heart should be. "I want you to listen very carefully. Can you feel anything?"

Elphaba shook her head slowly. "No . . ."

"Now listen," he said, placing her own hands, and his, above her own heart. "Close your eyes. And tell me what you feel."

"My heartbeat," she said quietly.

"I can feel it, too," he said sadly. "It shows that you're alive. That you're _human_. Without a heart, I'm nothing but a machine."

"You're wrong," Elphaba said. "You don't need a heart, fake or real, to be human. Boq, you're one of the kindest people I have ever met. So how is it possible I can truthfully say that, if you think you need a heart to love or feel emotions?"

Boq was at loss for words. He shook his head. "I--I don't know," he said.

"You're more human than you know," Elphaba said. "I think all you are is someone trapped inside a metal body. You're not a machine, and you're not a monster."

Boq smiled. "Thank you." There was a long comfortable silence in the room, just the two of them enjoying each other's company. "But tell me about yourself! I've been doing all the talking. I want to hear about you."

Elphaba smiled, leaning against one of the tables. "What's there to tell? I'm a Gypsy dancer."

"You're a _wonderful_ dancer," Boq said.

She laughed. "Keeps bread on the table."

"If you don't mind me asking, why do you wear all that green paint?" he asked.

Elphaba's thin eyebrows shot up. "You think this is paint?" she said, holding out her arm.

"Are you saying it's not?!" Boq said with equal surprise.

"No, my boy, it's one hundred percent real! She had emerald skin from the moment she was born!" Dillamond said happily.

Boq's jaw dropped. "Wow, that's--that's very--"

"Freaky?" Elphaba said, slightly offended.

"Beautiful."

"I've never heard anyone say that before," she said, not convinced Boq was being truthful. "Your good old buddy Ozymandias says that my green skin is a manifestation of all my sins."

"But you're so . . . so nice and the only one who's . . . who's actually cared about me," Boq said. "Maybe it means something else."

She smiled a little. "My mother used to say that my green skin meant I have great magical powers," she said softly, waving her hands.

"Can you do magic?" Boq asked.

"Only a little," she shrugged. "I never really did find a good sorcery teacher."

"So back there at the festival, when you disappeared, was that magic?"

"It was a simple parlor trick," she said casually. "_Real_ magic would be something along the lines of getting out of this cathedral alive."

"Maybe I can help you, then," Boq said with a sly grin.

* * *

**Don't worry, we get to know more about Elphie's past next chapter!**

**Stay tuned!**


	7. Escape

"Come with me quickly, I can help you get out of here," Boq said, offering her his metal hand.

Elphaba gave him a skeptical look. "How are you going to do that? There are guards at every door," she said.

"We won't use doors," he said with a smile. "Follow me!"

Boq lead her up the stairs to the roof of the towers, which looked over the entire city. Elphaba gasped in awe at the glorious sight before her. The hundreds upon hundreds of green and brick buildings lay before her with the crystal-clear canal curving gently around the center of the city. Windows sparkled with light and reflected the soft pale glow of the moon. It was a truly wonderful sight.

"Wow," she said. "I bet the Wizard doesn't have a view like this." She folded her arms over her chest, a smile on her lips. "I can stay up here all day."

Boq started to think. "You don't have to leave. You know, you can stay here if you want. You have sanctuary."

Elphaba shook her head. "But not freedom. No. I can't. Gypsies don't do well behind stone walls," she added with a note of distaste.

"But why not?" Boq asked curiously. "I've lived for fifteen years up here. It's not all that bad."

"I'm too restless. I gotta keep moving. I can't stay cooped up in one place to long, or I'll start feeling . . . trapped," she said. She turned to him. "Don't you ever feel that way?"

Boq shrugged. "Never thought about it. I was always so occupied . . ."

"I'm sure you were never _that_ occupied," Elphaba said.

Boq thought for a bit. "It had crossed my mind. A long time ago. Only a year or so after . . . after the incident. I did feel trapped and imprisoned, but the longer I stayed up here, the less trapped I felt. Here, I am safe. No one out there can hurt me."

"In my experience, sometimes it's a good thing to get hurt," Elphaba said.

"Why?"

"Because you learn."

"Learn what?"

Elphaba bit her lip. "You told me all about your past, so it's only fair you know mine. I was born to a very high-up government official. My mother was a little . . . active."

"Active?" Boq said, confused.

"You know . . . _active_." She did a little provocative dancing.

"Oh," Boq said, slightly embarrased.

"When I was born, my father knew I was a bastard child. He cast me out because of my green skin. He took me from my mother when I was only a few weeks or so old and just left me to die in an alley."

"That's horrible," Boq gasped.

"Then a band of Gypsies found me and raised me as their own. I did find out when I was a young adolescent that I have quite a potential for magic, but I couldn't find myself a good teacher. I had to rely on old books and crack-pot sorcerers. I can do a few tricks, but not much else."

Boq was silent for a moment. "How do you know that's the truth? You know, about how you were cast out and rescued?"

"A very excellent question I asked myself when I was a child," Elphaba said with a smile. "My mother gave me a necklace with her name on it just before my 'father' took me away. I held on to that trinket, and I managed to track her down. On my journey to find my mother, I heard all sorts of stories from the local riff-raff who saw what happened. That's how I knew. I managed to find where my mother lived. Unfortunately, she died a long time ago, giving birth to my half-sister."

"You have a half-sister?" Boq asked.

"Yes, but I never tried to contact her," she said bitterly. "My, ah, _father_ saw me standing outside his house and tried to kill me. He told me if I ever came back, he would. So I just let that sleeping dog lie. The Gypsies were my real family, anyway. They didn't give a damn if my skin was as green as sin. They take you as you are. They don't try to make you change."

"Did you ever find out who your real father was?"

"Nope. I had no clue for that one."

"I'm so sorry," he said gently. "That's a very tragic story."

"I managed to make it this far, haven't I?" she smiled. "I have much to be thankful for. Such as meeting someone like you."

Boq grinned widely. "Thank you."

"Now, how are we gonna get out of here?" she asked.

"You carry the Goat, and I'll carry you," he said simply. "Then I'll just climb down."

Elphaba looked over the railing. "We're pretty high up," she observed, somewhat frightened.

"Don't worry, I'll never let anything happen to you," Boq said, offering his hand. "Come quickly."

Elphaba scooped up Dillamond in her arms, and Boq lifted Elphaba's delicate frame upon his own shoulders and back. With one arm grasped around Dillamond, she clung to Boq's neck with her other arm and wrapped her legs around Boq's waist.

Boq jumped off the railing, and grabbed onto a stone gargoyle jutting from one of the walls. Dillamond stared terrified down at the ground, hundreds of feet below him.

"Have you done this before?" he asked with concern.

"Not really," he said, jumping down to another stone gargoyle. "But I know the entire place by heart. You have nothing to worry about."

"I disagree," Dillamond said, staring down.

"Just don't look down, and you'll be fine," Boq reassured.

From his post on the gargoyle, he leapt to another railing, and ran across it with amazing cat-like agility, given his bulky weight. He jumped to another steeple of the cathedral with metal shingles, and managed to grab hold of one before he slid off the roof entirely.

"You're an amazing acrobat," Elphaba said with a smile.

"Thank you," Boq said.

Sudddenly, the shingle came loose, and they started sliding down the roof. Boq and Elphaba screamed in terror. Sparks shot up all around them as they raced closer and closer to the roof's edge.

Just seconds before the shingle shot off the roof, Boq jumped, and grabbed hold of the gutter. The shingle flew off the roof and crashed into a nearby building. Boq breathed a sigh of relief. Thank god he caught the gutter.

He released his hold of the gutter and grabbed onto a pillar, and slid all the way down to its base, only a few feet off the ground. Boq helped Elphaba off his shoulder.

"I hope I didn't scare you," Boq said with a smile.

"Of course you didn't," Elphaba said.

"Oh, I disagree," Dillamond said, looking ready to either faint from sheer terror or melt into a puddle. Elphaba rolled her eyes.

"You said earlier you felt safe up in those bell towers, but you were so alone up there," Elphaba said. "Come with me! My people won't mind at all!" She grabbed his hand and tried to tug him away from the pillar, but he stayed rooted in his place.

"Oh, no, I'm not going back out there again," he said, shaking his head. "Elphaba, you belong out there with all the other Gypsies. But I belong here." He looked longingly up at the mighty cathedral, a faint smile on his metal lips. "This is my home."

Elphaba sighed sadly. "If you insist," she said. "But if you ever need sanctuary, then come to me."

"How will I find you?"

From beneath her dress, she pulled out a woven necklace draped around her neck, and gave it to Boq. "As long as you hold this woven band, the city lies in your hands," she said. Boq took it, and pulled it over his head and around his own neck, tucking it inside the grey tunic he still wore.

"Then let me give you something in return," Boq said, pulling out his clock-work heart hidden in his trouser's pocket. "Take this with you." He handed it to Elphaba.

Elphaba was shocked, and shook her head. "No, I can't take that! It means so much to you, I can't possibly accept. You said you were saving it until you found that special someone!"

"And I have," he said, placing his heart in her emerald hands. "You are that special someone. You are the only one who treated me like a human being. And I want you to have this so you may always remember me, no matter where you go."

Elphaba smiled, tucking the heart carefully into one of her dress's sashes. "Thank you so much. I'll come visit you, I promise."

Boq drew back in surprise. "No! It's too dangerous! The guards will-"

"I'll come at night," she answered simply.

"But-but I have to ring the bells for evening mass and clean the tower-"

Elphaba leaned over and placed a kiss on Boq's metal cheek. He paused, hardly believing what just happened.

"Whatever works for you," Boq said quickly, nearly melting with disbelief and unbelievable happiness.

"Alright, I'll see you again, I swear," she said, leaping off the pillar and down to the streets below. Dillamond followed her.

"Go, before the guards spot you!" Boq called after her urgently. Part of him wanted her to stay with him in the bell towers, and another part screamed for her to run to safety. And back where she truly belonged; with her people and adopted family.

Elphaba slipped away, as silent and stealthy as a shadow.

Boq sighed. She was something truly special, and he did not doubt for a second she deserved his heart. He climbed back up the pillar, and back to his bell tower. But when he pulled himself back onto the balcony of the tower, he was met face-to-face with a guard.

It was that despicable captain, Fiyero!

"Hey, buddy! What's up?" he asked cheerfully. "Have you seen the Gypsie girl?"

Boq felt an inexplicable rage overcome him. He tried to hurt Elphaba! He tried to arrest her and bring her to those horrible dungeons! He grabbed Fiyero's cloak and threw him to the ground.

"GET OUT!" he roared menacingly. Fiyero scrambled to his feet, hands raised defensively. His eyes were burning with a steady gaze that only a soldier was capable of when faced with such an intimidating foe. Fiyero carefully stepped backwards and down the tower's stairs.

"GET OUT! SANCTUARY! NO GUARDS!" Boq continued to yell, grabbing a torch and swinging it madly at Fiyero.

"Hey! Hey! Calm down! I just want to talk!" he said, his voice not without a fierce edge. Boq continued to drive Fiyero further back.

"OUT!"

Fiyero whipped out his sword and slashed away Boq's torch, knocking it out of his hands. Boq grabbed Fiyero's cape yet again, but Fiyero had his sword at his throat.

"Will you shut up for one second and let me explain myself?!" Fiyero said impatiently.

Boq was silent, his eyes burning with anger. Fiyero took Boq's silence as permission for him to speak.

"I didn't mean to lock her up in this cathedral, but it was the only way I could save her life!" he said. Boq's eyes went wide. "If I didn't do what I did, Oz would have captured her and killed her, I have no doubt about that."

"And why would you care about her?!" Boq spat viciously. "You're nothing but Ozymandias's dog!"

"The same could be said about you, couldn't it?" Fiyero retorted.

Boq's jaw dropped. "That's not true!!"

" 'I will never disobey you again, Master Ozymandias!' " Fiyero said dramatically. "I'm pretty sure I just heard you say that. And as for why I care about her-" he said, cutting off Boq before he could say anything else. "I think it's the same reason why you just helped her escape."

Boq stared at him.

"And if you see her again, tell her that, will you? Tell her I didn't mean to trap her here. Will you do that?"

Boq groaned, shaking his head in disbelief. "Fine. I'll tell her. But only if you go! Now!"

Fiyero raised an eyebrow. "I can't."

"Why not?!"

"You need to put me down, first."

Boq looked down at Fiyero's feet. He was holding him a good six inches above the stone steps. Slowly, Boq lowered him to the ground. Fiyero turned on his heel without another word and stepped a few paces down the stairs.

"Oh. And tell her one more thing," Fiyero said, turning around.

"What?" Boq said.

"Tell her she's lucky."

Boq paused, examining him for any signs of cruel sarcasm, but he found none. "Why?"

"For having a friend like you." He continued to descend the staricase without another backwards glance, leaving Boq, rooted to the spot, hardly daring to believe his own ears.

Friend?

He slowly smiled to himself. He'd never had any actual friends before.

And Fiyero wasn't like any other guard he'd known. He was different somehow. And he genuinely cared about Elphaba, that much was evident.

Perhaps Fiyero could be trusted.

Perhaps Fiyero could be--dare he hope?--an ally and another friend.


	8. Hellfire

**I'm sorry, this chapter's a little short. I had a serious case of writer's block. And I have some family issues going on right now. But, here you go, and enjoy!**

**P.S. I enabled anonymous reviews. Thanks for the tip, lizziemagic!!!**

* * *

Boq paced around the bell tower, replaying the scene that had taken place just moments before over and over inside his head. That Fiyero character wasn't what he appeared to be. There was something different about him. But what, Boq couldn't say. He certainly wasn't a steadfastly devout follower of Ozymandias, that much was for sure. He wasn't like the other guards. He wasn't cruel or unkind, or even hostile. In fact, he appeared to be downright friendly, that is, when Boq wasn't threatening his life.

And he cared about Elphaba as well. That confused him the most. He thought Ozymandias completely brainwashed all his soldiers to hate and arrest Gypsies without hesitation.

Fiyero was the only exception he'd ever seen. In all his years, Fiyero was the only soldier who did not totally _hate_ the Gypsies.

He stopped his pacing and cast his gaze towards the bells. He could almost hear them talking to him, whispering in the silent and still night.

"I don't know what to think," he said out loud. "Can I trust Fiyero?"

_He seems to be a noble character and knows a few things. He could be a very valuable ally, indeed._

"He could be," he muttered to himself. "Maybe he's not as bad as I first took him as. Maybe we can work together and help Elphaba avoid Ozymandias's wrath. And what _about_ Elphaba?"

_What about her?_

"She's the first woman I've ever met that accepts me for who I am . . . actually, the _only _woman I've ever met." He paused, and an unfamiliar feeling swept through his tin body. A strange and inexplicable rush of euphoria, anxiety, and nervousness. "I've never seen anyone like her. I've watched the people grow from the bell towers, seen how they live, how they act. But never have I met someone as wonderful as she is! She's so brave and strong! And smart! And she's so beautiful!"

_Sounds like you're in love,_ he could imagine the bells tease him.

Boq laughed to himself. "Love? No. I'm not capable of such things."

_You heard what she said; you don't need a real heart to feel emotions._

"True, but that's not it," he said, growing a little depressed. "I'm . . . I'm not even human. Not anymore. I don't have warm flesh to comfort her or embrace her with. I just can't be the one for her."

_But you gave her your prized heart._

"I wanted to show her how much I appreciate everything she's done for me. Saving me from being humiliated, standing up to Oz, oiling my jaw . . ." he smiled wearily. "But I'm afraid caring about someone is the closest thing I'll ever come to true love."

_We both know that's not true. You love her. Simple as that. You love her._

"I never imagined something as cold and heartless as myself being capable of such an emotion," Boq said. "But . . . whenever I think about her, I get this strange feeling . . . I'm happy, but feel _nauteous_. It's very strange indeed."

_You're in love._

"Do you think it is possible I can love someone like this?" he asked, gesturing towards his metal body.

_Says the man who was changed into tin in the first place. The land of Oz is a magical kingdom. Endless possibilities exist. Maybe a machine can love here in this wonderful place we call home._

Boq smiled. He paced again, and continued to think. "Do you think she loves me back?"

_You saw the way she looks at you, how she seems to glow just being in your presence--_

"Aw, you're just saying that," Boq said bashfully.

_--and I think it is very possible she loves you just as much as you love her._

Boq drifted back to his watch-making room, and seated himself at a table. A delicate gold watch hardly bigger than a sand dollar lay before him, completed only a few days before. He picked it up and carefully turned it over in his hands, examining every detail.

"I never thought metal abominations such as myself were destined to be loved," he said with a small smile. "All my life, I never would have dreamt of such a wonderful thing happening to me. Someone to love and care about me . . . surely only in a fantastical dream." He paused. "But it's happening. Elphaba, that wonderful woman . . . I love her!" He laughed at his sudden outburst. He jumped up from his seat, limitless joy and self-discovery filling every space in his metal being. "I love Elphaba!"

_And without a doubt, she loves you, too! You gave her your heart! It's only a matter of time before she gives you hers!_

Boq continued to smile, laughed, as his realization fully dawned on him. He, the metal monster of Notre Dame's bell towers, was in love.

And someone out there loved him back.

He grabbed a long chord of rope and tugged, and the bells rang out beautifully, their mystical music perfectly mirroring Boq's happiness. He closed his eyes, enjoying the music and the wonderful mesage it stood for.

_I love Elphaba._

_

* * *

_

Ozymandias gazed out his window silently, watching the sun set over the distant horizon. The bell towers of Notre Dame clearly protruded from the surrounding landscape of the Emerald City, dwarfing its neighboring buildings in size and elegance. And from his place in his home, he could faintly hear the bells ring.

The Tin Man hard at work yet again.

"Ave Maria, I pray to you," he said outloud, looking at the mighty cathedral. "I have proven myself to be a righteous man, outstanding in my virtues and valiant deeds of purging the streets of injustices. I uphold myself as above the petty commonfolk in regards to dealing with such barbarians, and I wish only to lead the people of my country away from sin!"

He turned to the fireplace, ad stared at the dancing orange flames, his hands clutching viciously. "But tell me, Maria, why do I see that Gypsy witch there? Standing in front of me! Teasing and tormenting! Haunting my dreams! That devilish villain! Her ebony hair smouldering in the sun--!" Before him, the dancing flames transformed into the Gypsy girl, twirling around in circles, secuctive and enticing. His heart pulsed wildly in his chest, and he could feel himself take a step closer to the fire, drawn to the girl.

How he longed to feel her firm flesh beneath his hands once more, to inhale her scent once more. Again, he envisioned the Gypsy girl in her grasp, a hand around her throat, another traveling down her slender frame--

NO!!

No! He must turn away from her! That demon! That wretched outcast! She was a devil, leading the righteous from grace to fall into the unholy land of sin!

But why did he lust her so?! He knew what she was, this barbaric savage! But the raging inferno in his heart could not be soothed. He wanted her! He longed for her!

But why?!

_Mea culpa, mea culpa, mea culpa . . ._

"It's not my fault!" he cried suddenly, stepping away from the fire. "I am not the one to blame!" He paced in circles, trying to push the unholy thoughts from his mind. Suddenly remembering something, he pulled out the Gypsy's scarf that she had draped around his neck only just this afternoon from within his black minister robes. He ran the silky fabric through his hands, raising it to his nose. Deeply inhaling the scent of roses and lilacs, imagining her dancing in front of him, urging him closer. He imagined reaching for her, the warmth of her flesh--

NO!

"The Gypsy girl! May her heathen practices be destroyed by God's hand!" Ozymandias roared. "She has cast this spell! Testing my moral strength! Trying to pry me from God's eye and throwing me into the firey pits of hell! May she burn for her curse she has inflicted upon me!"

He stormed over back to the fire, the scarf still clutched in his hands. "She will burn! The witch shall burn for what she has done! Her only salvation can be found with me! Yes! May she burn in hell, or be mine, and mine alone!" He laughed maddeningly. A side of Ozymandias broke free, a side he never thought he had. A side made of savage lusting and bloodlust. Either way, he would have that girl! He would find as much pleasure in having the girl all to himself, as watchig her burn at the strake.

The flames in the fireplace twisted and changed again, this time into a picture of the Gypsy girl writhing in pain, burning alive. Her death cries rang out through the night, her terrible wails of pain and anguish. Ozymandias laughed.

"You will be mine or you will burn!!"

Suddenly a knock came at the door. Ozymandias snapped out of his crazed state and turned.

"Who goes there?" he thundered, furious at the intruder.

A guard opened the door and stepped inside. "Sir, the Gypsy girl has escaped!"

Ozymandias's blood ran cold. "What?!"

"We've searched the entire cathedral, but she's nowhere to be found," the guard said somberly. "She's gone."

Ozymandias's rage returned, intensifying a thousandfold. "But how?!" he snarled. "Never mind! Get out, you imbecile!" The guard left as commanded, leaving Ozymandias in the room, seething with insanity. "I feel the witch's curse burn through my veins like hellfire! Darkfire! This burning desire turning me to sin! But now, you Gypsy witch, you will choose me or your pyre! Choose me or burn in hell for all eternity!"

He threw the scarf into the fire, where it instantly caught and burnt to ashes in seconds. A cruel smile played on his lips as he imagined the Gypsy girl faced with the same fate.

"May God have mercy on your unclean soul!" he whispered in a sinister voie.

* * *

**Wow. Elphaba has three guys stalking her. Doesn't she feel special.**

**I want you all to go online to youtube and watch the song "Hellfire" from Disney's version. THAT SONG IS THE SHIT. THAT SONG IS THE REASON WHY HoND IS MY FAVORITE DISNEY MOVIE. IT IS SO BADASS!!!!**


	9. Defiance

Fiyero tapped his foot impatiently on the stone roads, waiting for Ozymandias to arrive. He was late. Ozymandias was never late. And Fiyero and his men were getting flustered.

Finally, after an hour or so of waiting, Ozymandias's carriage pulled up, and out stepped the minister, who looked extremely weary and had large bags under his eyes. He winced as the bright sunlight stung his irritated eyes.

"Sir, are you all right?" Fiyero asked with concern.

"I'm perfectly fine. Just had a rough night," Ozymandias said gruffly.

"I see," Fiyero muttered. He stood straight and tall, saluting, his heels clicking together. "Your orders, sir?"

"Find the Gypsy girl!" Ozymandias instantly snapped. Fiyero mounted his horse and so did Ozymandias, riding a very large and terrifying black horse. Ozymandias led Fiyero to a few small shops on the outskirts of town and ordered Fiyero to have his men raid the shops. Grudgingly, Fiyero carried out the command. The soldiers burst into the shop, which happened to be a bakery, and ripped the place apart. Shelves filled with freshly baked bread and other food items were tossed carelessly to the floor as the men searched ravenously for any hidden Gypsies stowed away in the shop.

Finally, one of the soldiers ripped off a rug, revealing a trap door. He yanked the trap door open, revealing five Gypsies huddled close together beneath the floorboards. Their eyes went wide with terror as the guards seized them and clasped all of their wrists and ankles in chains. The guards dragged them out of the bakery where Ozymandias stood, an enraged expression plastered on his face.

He pulled out a small sack of coins. "I will give each of you ten pieces of silver if you tell me where the Gypsy Elphaba is hiding!" he said in a quiet voice. "If you refuse to tell me, I will have you locked away!"

The Gypsies stood there, not meeting Ozymandias's gaze, their eyes burning with determination to keep their friend's whereabouts a secret. Furious, Ozymandias turned to Fiyero. "Throw them in the dungeons!"

Fiyero motioned to a guard to place them in a wagon with thick iron bars, used to escort criminals to the dungeons. The Gypsies went inside the iron-clad wagon without a complaint or a word, and actually smiled with pride. No threats would make them betray their comrade.

Next, they marched to the center of the city, arresting any and all Gypsies they came across. First was a mother with a small child in her arms. Under Ozymandias's orders, Fiyero chased the woman down and grabbed her, pinning her against a brick wall. Ozymandias stepped up to the woman, eyeing the small child sheilding behind her leg with fury.

"I will pay you fifteen pieces of silver if you reveal to me where the Gypsy Elphaba is!" Ozymandias said, holding up the bag of coins.

The woman met his gaze, and her eyes hardened with determination. Fiyero silently marveled her bravery for standing up to this intimidating man. Ozymandias grew furious at the woman's stubbornness. He grabbed the woman's daughter by the hair and dragged her out from beneath her mother.

"Do you wish for your daughter to rot away in prison for the rest of her life?!" Ozymandias roared. The woman cried out and begged for the release of her daughter. "I will imprison the both of you unless you tell me where Elphaba is!"

The woman shut her eyes tightly, and shook her head, tears spilling from her eyes. "I will not tell you!" she said angrily.

Ozymandias cuffed the woman, sending her crashing against the stone road. Fiyero caught her in his arms, furious at Ozymandias for attacking an innocent woman. He glared furiously at Ozymandias.

"Arrest her!" Ozymandias ordered. "And the child as well!"

With no other option, Fiyero placed both the woman and daughter in chains and led them to the iron-clad wagon. As he placed them inside the wagon, he grabbed her gently by the shoulder and whispered in her ear.

"I am so sorry. I never wanted him to hurt any of you," he said.

"Then why don't you do the right thing?" the woman spat bitterly, turning to seat herself on the floor of the wagon.

They continued their search. Next, they attacked a small caravan pulled by two small ponies. The guards chopped off the ponies' harnesses and shoved the caravan into the canal. The caravan immediately began to sink, and the people inside the caravan were, luckily, able to escape. But once their heads emerged from beneath the water, the guards threw ropes around them and dragged them to shore, eight Gypsies total, including three children. Once again the guards bound them in chains and they stood before Ozymandias, who was shaking in anger at the Gypsies' stubbornness.

"Twenty pieces of silver for each of you if you tell me where the Gypsy Elphaba is!" Ozymandias said, his voice quivering with anger. And once again, the Gypsies remained silent. Ozymandias took a whip from a nearby guard and dragged one of the Gypsies, an elderly man, out of the group and threw him to the ground. Unable to move because of the chains, all he could do was lay there as Ozymandias brutally lashed him. The whip cracked down upon his back, tearing at the skin, his blood soaking his tunic. The man whimpered in pain as the whip rose and fell, rose and fell, his blood staining the earth beneath him.

Unable to stand watching the old man being horribly tortured any further, Fiyero jumped in, grabbing Ozymandias's hand. "STOP!" he cried.

Ozymandias turned angrily to Fiyero. "You dare interfere with my command?!"

"You are wasting your time," Fiyero said in a slow and even voice. He thought quickly, trying to think of a good explanation to stop torturing the poor man. "He won't tell us anything. Now I suggest we continue our search rather than try to uselessly extract information from this criminal."

"Very well," Ozymandias said coolly, giving the whip back to the guard. "Lock them all up!"

Fiyero growled, shaking his head. This was wrong. What was he thinking, serving this corrupt and villainous man? He swore to protect the people of Oz! And he was under the command of the most vile and dispicable person Fiyero had ever known.

He had to do something . . .

Their endless search brought them to a mill on the outskirts of the town. A family, who was living in a shabby home with a windmill built right next to the shack, stood before Ozymandias, cowering in fear. Fiyero looked over the residents of the modest home. The wife and husband were of middle age and of humblest upbringings, having few possessions. They had two children, a boy about five years of age, and one still an infant.

Nearby, a crowd had gathered, watching Ozymandias from afar. They were horrified by his actions and his cruel persecution of the innocent Gypsies. Among them, Elphaba lurked, hidden beneath a black cloak that covered her emerald skin. Dillamond followed closely at her heels.

"Ozymandias has gone mad!" she heard one of them whisper.

"He nearly killed the Gypsies seeking refuge with the blacksmith!" another cried.

Elphaba watched the scene unfold before her.

"We have found this Gypsy talisman on your property," Ozymandias was saying in an accusing tone to the man. "We have reason to believe you have been harboring Gypsy fugitives in your home!"

"Our home is always open to the weary traveler," the man responded, shaking in fear. "Please, have mercy on us!"

"Until the truth has been revealed, you are all under house arrest. I intend to get to the bottom of this matter as soon as possible," Ozymandias said abrupty.

"But we are innocent!" the man pleaded, grabbing the hem of Ozymandias's robes. Ozymandias pulled away and slammed the door shut behind him, locking the family inside. He took a spear from one of the guards and used it to barricade the door shut. He then turned to Fiyero, handing him a torch. "Burn it," he said.

"What?!" Fiyero cried.

"Until it smoulders. These people have assisted in aiding a dangerous fugitive and must be made example of," Ozymandias said with remarkable calm.

"For your information, sir, I was not trained to murder the innocent!" Fiyero said angrily.

"But you were trained to follow orders!" Ozymandias hissed. "Now burn it to the ground!"

Fiyero glared at Ozymandias and slowly stepped up to the house. He raised the torch as if to light the thatched roof, but instead, plunged the torch into a nearby barrel of water.

"I will not have innocent blood on my hands!" Fiyero said, throwing the extinguished torch at Ozymandis's feet.

"Insolent coward!" Ozymandias roared. He grabbed another torch from a guard, and jumping on his horse, he raised the torch to the straw roof of the house, which instantly caught fire. The whole house and windmill were engulfed in flames in a matter of seconds. Fiyero stepped back in horror, away from the raging inferno. But he could hear the peasants inside the house scream in terror. He couldn't let any innocent blood be spilled because of Ozymandias! Filled with newfound courage, Fiyero leapt through one of the windows and into the burning house.

Elphaba gasped in horror, taking a step backwards. Unconsciously, she gripped Dillamond tightly for support.

Moments later, Fiyero kicked open the wooden door, carrying the two children in his strong arms. The mother and father of the children followed Fiyero out of the house, running to safety. Once out of harm's way, Fiyero handed the children back to their parents, both beaming with happiness and tears in their eyes, thankful to be alive.

But a guard came up from behind Fiyero and smacked the back of his skull with the hilt of his sword. Fiyero collapsed to the ground, losing conciousness for only a moment. The guards grabbed him, and one readied his sword to execute Fiyero.

"The punishment for insubordination is death," Ozymandias said in the same cool and menancing voice. "Pity. You gave up such a promising career."

"Consider it my highest honor," Fiyero said. He had no regrets for what he did. He would gladly die to protect the innocent from this madman. He was no longer Ozymandias's lowly dog.

The guard raised his sword high into the air.

Elphaba took a small rock in her hands and wrapped it in a scarf. Taking careful aim, she whipped the rock at Ozymandias's horse. The horse reared and whinnied at the attack, throwing Ozymandias from his back. Fiyero took advantage of the guards' distractions and broke out of their hold, delivering hard blows to each of the men containing him. Fiyero ran, jumping on Ozymandias's horse and urging the black steed to run as fast as he could, crossing over the bridge that seperated the Emerald City from the outskirts and surrounding villages.

"Get him!" he could hear Ozymandias cry. "And don't hit my horse!"

Fiyero could hear the unmistakeable _twang_ of arrows, and saw several shoot past him. Fiyero dared not look back, but clung low to the horse, hoping the arrows would miss him.

But luck was not on his side that night.

An arrow pierced through his armor just below his shoulder. Fiyero cried out in agony as a searing bolt of pain rippled across his shoulder, then all across his torso. He could feel himself lose consciousness, and he slipped from the horse, plunging into the canal surrounding the city.

The guards rushed to the bridge, firing more arrows into the murky waters.

"Save your arrows!" Ozymandias commanded. "Let the traitor rot in his watery grave!"

Elphaba ran under the bridge, wary of the guards, but panicking for Fiyero's life. She couldn't lose him! Not after what Fiyero did! She wasn't going to let this innocent man perish by Ozymandias's rage.

"Continue searching for the Gypsy! Do not rest until she is found!" she heard Ozymandias order. The guards marched away, back to the Emerald City. Once gone, Elphaba waded into the water, taking a large gulp of air before she plunged into the waters.

It was a miracle Fiyero was only a few feet below the surface. Elphaba quickly undid his armor and dragged him to the surface, swimming to shore. Fiyero's weight made her task difficult, but she refused to give up. She would not let him die.

She managed to pull him onto the shore after a great and tiring struggle. She bent over him, looking for any signs of life. He wasn't breathing. She pressed her mouth on top of his and pinched his nose shut, giving him two breaths of air. Fiyero gagged and coughed up water trapped inside of his throat, and thankfully began to breathe on his own. But he was badly wounded. The arrow came out of his shoulder when Elphaba stripped Fiyero of his armor, but she needed to get him to safety so she could properly tend his wounds. She ripped off a lenght of her skirt and tied it over his shoulder, slowing the bleeding. But he needed somewhere safe to recover, and somewhere she could treat his injury to the best of her abilities.

But where could she go?

_You have sanctuary . . ._

Elphaba sat up with sudden realization. The cathedral! She could go there! Boq would surely help her!

She pulled Fiyero into a nearby bush, hiding him. She hated to leave him there, but she couldn't carry Fiyero all the way back to the cathedral on her own.

She raced back to the Court of Miracles to retrieve a friend that could help her bring Fiyero to Notre Dame. As she ran, she silently prayed to God to protect Fiyero.

_Please, don't let anything happen to him,_ she prayed. _I love him._


	10. Wounds Heal, Hearts Break

Boq paced nervously on the balcony of the bell towers. Outside, beyond the stony walls of the mighty cathedral, the city was ablaze. Ozymandias was burning down the entirety of the Emerald City in his crazed search for Elphaba. At least half of the small houses lining the major buildings of the green-bricked city were on fire and burning to a smouldering heap of ashes. A few taller buildings were also burning, standing out like torches raised above a lake of fire. No one was safe from Ozymandias's insatiable rage. Not until he found her.

Why Ozymandias wanted to find Elphaba so desperately was beyond him, but that didn't matter. Ozymandias would not rest until he found her, and if that meant he had to burn down the entire city to do so, he would do it.

Boq could only stand back in his sanctuary, the mighty bell towers, and watch. And pray that out there, amidst the fiery blaze, Elphaba was somewhere safe.

But constant nightmares plagued his mind. What if she was already captured and rotting away in the Palace of Justice? Or locked up and just waiting to be hung by the neck until her last breath seeped out of her? What if she was locked up in a cold, empty cell, and slowly starving to death?! What if the guards captured her and were now brutally torturing her with whips and clubs?! Or what if one of those fires out there was her burning at the stake?!

Boq was making himself sick with worry over his beloved friend. He tried to keep his mind occupied with the many tasks of caretaking the bell towers. But no matter what he tried to do to distract himself, she would always come back to him, filling his thoughts. He tried to polish the bells, but everytime he looked at his own reflection in the bell's shining surface, he would see her looking back at him. He threw away the rag in disgust, and gave up trying to distract himself from her.

It was hopeless. He cared about her, no, he _loved_ her too much to ignore the unsettling feeling in his gut.

Boq continued pacing, trying to reassure himself. Elphaba was certainly very clever and managed to avoid being captured at the festival. She was resourceful, and smart. If Boq dared hope, she was good at hiding, and was safely hidden away, far from harm.

Yes. Elphaba was and always would be three steps ahead of that madman Ozymandias. She knew how to slip away into shadows and avoid detection. Out there, somewhere, she was safe.

And once things cooled off, maybe she'd come back. She did promise, after all. How he longed to see her again, and at the very least, just be able to see that she was in fact safe again. And maybe she'd confess to him her feelings for him . . .

Or at least Boq hoped.

He didn't know how much longer he continued to pace, but it was well into the night, when it had grown dark, and the only light for miles was the countless fires blazing through the city.

"Boq?"

The voice was so quiet he almost missed it. He froze instantly, still as a statue, listenig for any other noises.

A door creaked ever so slightly. "Boq, are you there?" the voice called, as soft as a whispery breeze. But Boq recognized the voice instantly.

"Elphaba!" he cried, bursting down the stairs. She was hidden beneath a cloak, waiting at the bottom of the tower stairs. Boq was overjoyed to see her alive--and perfectly ok, on top of that! He embraced her tightly, grinning from ear to ear.

"I knew it! I knew you were going to be ok!" Boq said happily.

Elphaba hugged him back. "You've done so much for me already, my good friend. But I must ask one more thing from you." Her tone was serious, and Boq could tell something was very wrong. He gripped her hands comfortingly in his own metal hands, and nodded sincerely.

"Yes, of course, anything for you," he said without hesitation.

"I cannot thank you enough!" Elphaba said, looking immensely relieved. Elphaba walked back over to the doors. Another Gypsy, this one a very large man, entered, carrying another man, with one arm slung around his shoulders. The man was unconscious and his white tunic was stained with blood. Elphaba ran to the injured man's side and lifted his other arm. That's when Boq saw his face.

It was Fiyero. And he looked more dead than alive.

"This is Fiyero. Ozymandias shot him down after Fiyero saved the lives of an innocent family," Elphaba said, stroking Fiyero's face. "He's gravely injured and needs a place to stay. I know he would be safe here." She turned back to Boq. "Please, we must help him. He's a fugitive now. Like me."

Boq nodded. So he was right about Fiyero all along. And if he had the guts to stand up to Ozymandias like that . . .

Boq didn't hesitate for a moment. "Follow me," he said, ushering them up the stairs. Boq dashed madly around the bell towers, grabbing some blankets and a cushion off a nearby chair. He hastily threw them on the ground and spread them out as a quick make-shift bed. Elphaba and the other Gypsy gently laid Fiyero down on his stomach. Fiyero's entire back was red with blood.

"I'll go get some water," Boq said. He ran and grabbed a pail of water, and handed some clean rags to Elphaba. "Um, do you mind?" he asked shyly. "My hands will rust instantly if I touch the water."

"Not at all," Elphba said, taking the rags. She ripped off his blood-soaked shirt, revealing the wounds beneath. Boq cringed. His shoulder had a very large and deep gash. It already looked partially infected, and a lot of blood had been lost. His chances of surviving were very slim, to say the least.

"Is he going to be ok?" Boq asked.

"I hope," Elphaba said worriedly. She started to vigorously scrub the half-dried blood off Fiyero's back, and gently washed the area around the wound.

"What happened?" Boq asked.

"Ozymandias burned down a house with the family still trapped inside," Elphaba said slowly as she delicately washed away Fiyero's blood. "Fiyero rescued them, and Ozymandias tried to kill him. He took an arrow to the back and fell into the canal. I managed to drag him out and bring him here." She brushed away Fiyero's hair from his eyes. "I've never seen anyone do something like that before."

Boq glanced at her, but paid no attention to the unsettling feeling in the pit of his stomach.

Once the blood was cleaned, Elphaba pressed her hands onto Fiyero's wound, and began to chant. Her voice was low, her chanting in a continuous chain, never faltering. Her voice grew louder and louder, and her emerald hands began to glow. Boq jumped back in awe. She was doing magic!

Elphaba finished her spell, and the light from her hands faded. She pulled away, exhausted, but a faint smile on her lips. And Fiyero's wound was completely healed.

Boq gasped. "You did it! You did real magic! That's incredible!" Boq cried happily.

"Thank you," she said wearily. "Unfortunately, that one little spell took quite a bit out of me."

"You need me to get anything for you? Water? Something to eat?" Boq rattled off instantly.

"No, no, I'm alright," she reassured. She turned her attention back to Fiyero. She rolled him onto his back gently, and stroked his golden hair. He groaned, and his sparkling blue eyes fluttered open. And he smiled.

"So I was right all along. You are an angel," he murmured.

Elphaba laughed quietly. "I would have to be to save you from that little stunt you did. You are either the single bravest man I have ever met, or the craziest."

"I tend to be both," he snickered. He rubbed his eyes. "And where's my shirt?"

"I had to take it off you silly," Elphaba teased.

"What else did you take off?"

Elphaba laughed, a good, full, hearty laugh. Her laugh was like the chorus of a thousand tiny little bells tolling in perfect harmony. Boq had never heard anything quite so beautiful before.

But she wasn't laughing because of him.

That unsettling feeling in his stomach continued to grow, but Boq continued to ignore it. Surely he had to focus on the injured--and almost dead--Fiyero than his own petty needs.

"You were lucky," Elphaba said worriedly. "That arrow almost pierced your heart."

Fiyero took Elphaba's slender, delicate hands in his own and pressed them against his chest. Right over his heart. His real, beating heart. Warm, soft skin. Not cold, unforgiving metal.

"I'm not so sure it didn't," Fiyero whispered, an unfamiliar spark flashing through his eyes. Their eyes met, both of their eyes sparkling with that strange glow, and that's when Boq saw it too.

The feeling in his stomach could not be ignored any longer. Not when it was staring at him in the face.

The way they looked at each other, how they touched, the way they talked . . .

No! Elphaba loved him, _Boq_! She loved the one made of metal, who risked his life to help her escape the cathedral! He gave his beloved heart to her, damn it! She knew how much that heart meant to him, how much he cared for her, how much he _loved_ her! His eyes must be playing tricks, it wasn't possible she could love someone like Fiyero--!

But Elphaba bent over, and their lips touched in a passionate kiss. Fiyero raised one of his hands and lovingly stroked the side of her face, Elphaba lacing her emerald hands through his own sandy-blond hair. Their kiss was so passionate, so full of real, genuine love. True love.

Boq collapsed against one of the wooden pillars supporting the tower, and clung to it for dear life. No! How could it be true? How could she love _him_?

But the truth was staring at him right in the face. Elphaba and Fiyero were locked in a passionate kiss, so full of love and tenderness. A tenderness Boq could never feel, or return. Boq could never be the man Fiyero was. Not like this. Not while he was trapped in this metal prison that was his tin body.

They broke their kiss, and Fiyero settled back against his make-shift pillow, slipping into a deep slumber. Elphaba brushed away his hair from his face, her face covered in the hppiest smile, her eyes gazing lovingly at the sleeping man before him.

Elphaba loved Fiyero. It was impossible to ignore any longer.

Boq felt water leaking from his eyes, and stared down at his own metal hands. And began to grow angry. How could he have been so foolish? Who was he kidding? No one could love a heartless, soulless machine! Something as hideous as himself wasn't meant to be loved. No. He was nothing but a pile of enchanted scrap metal. How he was so foolish to believe someone as wonderous and beautiful as Elphaba could love a monster like him, Boq, the tin tik-tok.

He crashed to his knees. And for the second time in his entire life, Boq wept.


	11. Hollow

"Elphaba! Miss Elphaba! Come quick!" Dillamond suddenly cried in terror.

Boq snapped out of his misery at the panicked tone of the Goat's voice. He and Elphaba ran to Dillamond's side, who was standing on a window sill. Boq instantly saw why Dillamond cried for their attention.

"It's my master! Ozymandias!" Boq said, terrified. He turned to Elphaba. "You have to get out of here! Listen very carefully to my instructions," Boq said, taking Elphaba's hand. "Take the South Tower stairs! There should be a trap door at the bottom, hidden under a rug! Go through the trapdoor, and you'll be in a corridor! Follow the corridor all the way until the end, that will take you under the city and to the canal! Now go quickly, there's not a second to waste!"

The other Gypsy and Dillamond were already sprinting to the South Tower, but Elphaba stayed behind for only a moment. She looked at him with worry and fear. "Please, Boq, please promise me you'll take care of Fiyero!"

Boq shut his eyes tightly, but no matter how much he loathed Fiyero at the moment, he had to respect Elphaba's wishes. "I promise."

Elphaba sqeezed his hands tightly, and ran off, following her Goat friend.

Boq had to move quickly. Ozymandias would be up in the towers in a matter of minutes. Using his super-human strength, he easily picked up the unconscious Fiyero and ran to his secret clock-making room hidden behind the black curtain. He set Fiyero down on the floor and lifted up a table cloth, sliding Fiyero under the table. The table cloth fell all the way to the floor, and Boq hoped that it would hide Fiyero well enough until Ozymandias left.

Boq tore off the garments he still wore and threw them off to the side; he knew that Ozymandias would be furious if he saw him wearing clothes. And he had one other thing to do. Boq's jaw was supposed to still be rusted shut. Only Ozymandias was allowed to give Boq any oil. Quickly, he grabbed the pail of water Elphaba used to wash Fiyero's wounds.

He hated being rusted, and worse, he hated doing it himself. But no doubt he would be free of the rust's prison very soon. Summoning up as much courage as he possibly could, Boq plunged his head into the icy water, which rusted his jaw solid. He grabbed a towel and wiped away the excess water, and hid the bloody rags and towels away.

He grabbed a can of polish and another clean rag and darted up to one of the bells, where he started polishing feverently, trying to remain as normal as possible. He heard footsteps clambering up the staircase just as he began polishing said bell.

"Good evening, my dear boy," he heard Ozymandias say pleasantly. "Now, where are you?"

Calmly, Boq climbed down from the rafters and apperared before Ozymandias, giving him a small bow. For once in his life, Boq was glad he was made of tin, or else his knees would have been shaking with fear.

"Ah, good to see you're still in tip-top shape," he said with a small laugh. Boq still stood there, motionless. He wondered what could possibly have put Ozymandias in such a good mood. "And, I have a little something for you," he added, revealing a small oil can. Boq gratefully took it, bowing as he did so. He brought the oil can up to his jaw and fixed it as good as new.

"Thank you very much, Master. You are very kind," Boq said reverently.

"Oh, it was nothing. Besides, I came here to speak with you, and how can I speak to you if your jaw is rusted solid?" Ozymandias quipped.

"Very true, Master. And it is very kind for you to visit me at such an hour."

"Nonsense, I always have time to visit you."

This sentence made Boq stand on edge. Ozymandias normally avoided Boq at all costs. This only meant Ozymandias was here out of necessity. But what was he up to?

"I have never spent much time up in these wonderous bell towers, yet I know them quite well," Ozymandias said, slowly gliding around the room.

Boq kept pace with him, trying to appear emotionless and dead. "If you are searching for something, I would be happy to help."

"Oh, no, that's quite alright, I do know my way around the place well enough," Ozymandias said, stopping just in front of the black curtain. Boq went rigid with fear. "And now, I wonder, whatever is behind this curtain?"

Before Boq could respond, Ozymandias threw back the curtain, revealing the hidden room within. Boq winced. Ozymandias would be furious with him for sure. But to his surprise, Ozymandias appeared . . . pleased.

"Oh, my boy, I didn't know you had such a magnificent talent," Ozymandias commented. "Making watches and clocks all these years!"

"It was something to keep myself occupied once I had finished all of my duties as the bell caretaker," Boq said in his emotionless voice. "As you always taught me, 'an idol mind is the devil's workshop.' "

"And you are absolutely right, my servant," Ozymandias said, walking around the room, looking at all of the clocks and watches. "If one is bored, one's mind tends to drift, and think unholy thoughts . . ." Boq was starting to grow worried. Ozymandias stopped at one of the tables and curiously examined it. "I actually have to confess that I knew about your little hobby for quite a while."

"You did?" Boq asked, trying to keep the surprise out of his voice.

"Oh, yes. In fact, I bought a couple of your pocket waches. Truly magnificent pieces of artwork, indeed." He studied the table more carefully. "Ah, but you are missing one of your clocks."

Boq felt himself grow very stiff, tensing with anxiety. Ozymandias was staring at the table that his prized clock-work heart had been. How much did Ozymandias know about his work? Did he know about his valuable heart?

"Perhaps I sold it recently," Boq replied calmly.

"Oh, no, you would have never sold off _this_clock, my dear servant," Ozymandias said chillingly. Boq was frozen with fear. He knew! "Oh, yes, I know all about your little clock-work heart! Building it to give to a woman you loved! And now it's gone! I wonder, who did you give it to?!" Ozymandias strode over to Boq, anger blazing through every vein in his body.

"Now, it's not what it appears to be-" Boq said quickly, but Ozymandias seized Boq's throat.

"I KNOW YOU GAVE HER YOUR HEART AND I KNOW YOU HELPED THAT GYPSY GIRL ESCAPE!!" Ozymandias roared. "And now the entire Emerald City is burning because of YOU!" Ozymandias flung Boq to the floor. Boq crashed against the stone floor, and he scuttled over to the corner of the room, cowering in fear.

"S-she was kind to me," Boq stuttered.

"Gypsies aren't capable of true kindness or love, you fool!" Ozymandias roared. "Think of the Gypsy woman who kidnapped you from your true parents!! About the Gypsy witch who cursed you!! She is only one of the many villains of this city!"

"She's not like that!" Boq protested.

Boq was sure Ozymandias was about to yell at him some more, but his face went deathly calm and composed, and this frightened Boq only more. "Oh, you poor lost thing," Ozymandias whispered. "Once again, you are under a Gypsy's spell. But do not fear. I will release you of her hold soon enough."

"What do you mean?" Boq said.

"I know where her little hide-away is," Ozymandias sneered. "And at dawn, I will attack with a thousand men! And kill them every single last one of them, once and for all! But do not fear, my dear servant. You will be freed from her spell, and you will finally see the truth." He turned on his heel, and marched out of the tower, and out of the cathedral.

Boq stood there, motionless. How did Ozymandias know the location of Elphaba's hiding spot?!

Fiyero groaned from underneath the table. "Nice guy, your master is," he muttered. He slid out from underneath the table, clutching his injured shoulder. "Come on! We gotta find Elphaba and warn her before dawn and Ozzy attacks!"

Boq turned away from him. "I can't," he said hollowly.

"Why not?!" Fiyero yelled furiously.

"I can't leave the bell towers!"

"Again, why the hell not?!"

"Ozymandias is my master and he has forbidden me from ever leaving the towers! I can't disobey my master!" Boq said angrily, folding his arms across his chest, his back still to Fiyero.

"Who the hell do you think you are?!" Fiyero said angrily. "You'd rather obey your bastard of a master's orders than help the woman you care about?!"

Boq didn't respond.

"If you had even an ounce of conscience in that damn metal body of yours, you would help me find Elphaba!" Fiyero continued to say angrily. "Or maybe you are just as heartless and cold as Ozymandias!"

"I am not like him!" Boq whispered hoarsely.

"Well you sure act like it!" Fiyero said. "You say you care for Elphaba, but you'd rather just stand back and watch her die and obey your precious master's orders! You don't deserve _any_ of her love if that's what you plan on doing!"

Boq spun on his heel and charged Fiyero, ramming him against a wooden beam. Boq pressed his forearm against Fiyero's throat, raising him several inches into the air. Fiyero gasped and wheezed for breath, but Boq didn't care. His entire being was livid with fury.

"I love Elphaba more than you can ever possibly imagine!" Boq said in a quiet voice. "She was the only woman who ever cared about me, who ever treated me like the human being I _really_ am! I gave her my heart! But you took it from her and broke it!! _You ruined everything there was between us_!"

Fiyero choked. "Is that what this is about?!" Fiyero wheezed. "You refuse to help me because you think I stole Elphaba from you?! Let me fill you in on a little secret, I didn't steal her, she came to _me_! She loves _me_, and if you care about her as much as you say you do, you would find the courage within yourself to accept her decision!"

"She was everything to me!" Boq cried.

"And she doesn't belong to you!"

There was a ringing silence in the bell towers. Boq and Fiyero locked gazes, both of them burning with anger. Boq took a step backwards and released his hold of Fiyero. Fiyero stood on shaky feet, rubbing his throat.

"So what now?" Fiyero said after a long and uncomfortable silence.

"Go. She needs you," Boq said quietly, once again turning away from Fiyero.

"You're not coming?" Fiyero said, once again anger creeping into his voice.

"She doesn't need me," Boq said hollowly.

Fiyero growled as he decended the tower stairs. "You have a funny way of showing people just how much you care about them. And you know what, Boq? You really _are_ heartless!"

Boq glared angrily after Fiyero as he watched him march down the stairs, still clutching his injured shoulder. Furious, he stormed around the bell towers, lost in his own anger.

"She doesn't belong to me! Did she even care about me at all?! What difference does it make? I'm not the one for her! I'm just a hollow, heartless, empty pile of scrap metal!" Boq cried out furiously. "She already has her golden, knight in shining armor! And it's not me! It's that Fiyero person, of all the imbeciles to choose from!" Boq stopped dead in his tracks, slouching his shoulders. "Ozymandias was right. He was right about everything. No one can possibly care about something like me. I'm nothing to Elphaba."

He strode around the bell tower, lost in his own misery. Love wasn't for him. No one was capable of loving a creature made of cold, forbidding metal. Elphaba had no need for him.

Not when she had Fiyero. Not when she _loved_ Fiyero. Fiyero . . . perfectly human, able to offer her all the comfort of a warm tender body. Something Boq could _never_ hope to offer Elphaba.

His gaze drifted over to the clothing he discarded in haste before Ozymandias arrived to the bell towers. He shut his eyes tightly, throwing on the boots, tunic, pants, and finally, the cape.

"I must be out of my mind," Boq muttered to himself as he raced down the stairs, taking a short cut.


	12. The Court of Miracles

Fiyero stormed out of the cathedral, livid with anger. How dare that--that _thing_ call himself a friend if he wasn't willing to help his "friends" when they were in danger?! Fiyero wouldn't hesitate to risk his life for the ones he loved! Elphaba risked her own life helping him, and it was _because_ she helped Boq in the first place Ozymandias wants her dead! How could Boq not be willing to make the same sacrifice as her?

He threw open the wooden doors and stepped out into the chilly night. He was no more than a few steps away from the cathedral when he suddenly felt a hand clamp around his biceps.

"Fiyero-"

He didn't even think. By sheer instinct alone, instinct rigorously taught throughout his years as a soldier, he spun on his heel and delivered a skull-shattering punch to his captor's face.

But Fiyero's fist did not connect with bone or soft tissue of a human being's face. Insead, he ended up punching solid metal. Tin, to be exact.

Boq stumbled backwards, surprised at the sudden attack, but just shook it off like it was nothing. In the meantime, Fiyero's entire hand exploded with pain and he doubled over, crumpling to his knees and moaning in sheer agony. He rubbed his hand, trying to dull the pain, but all his efforts amounted to nothing. His vision swam before him, the pain was so intense.

"I tried to warn you," Boq said, rather amused, folding his arms over his chest. He was wearing a grey tunic, black trousers and thick black boots. A long black cape hid his metal features, apparently a disguise to help him blend in.

"Yeah, thanks for the heads up," Fiyero growled bitterly, still rubbing his hand. The pain was starting to fade a little, and he didn't think he broke any bones, thankfully. He rose to his feet, holding his injured hand close to his chest, and managed to give Boq a half-hearted smile. "I'm glad you changed your mind, though."

"I'm not doing it for you; I'm doing it for Elphaba," Boq said with an edge. "She saved me, so it's only fair I save her."

Fiyero smiled. Maybe he did have a heart within that tin body of his.

"Alright, I think it's fair to say that if we want to save Elphaba and the rest of the Gypsies, we need to work together," Fiyero continued, extending his un-injured hand. "So, can I trust you? Will you help me?"

Boq didn't hesitate, shaking Fiyero's hand firmly. "Of course." But Fiyero still sensed a hint of anger in the tin being's voice. _Still harboring hard feelings,_ Fiyero thought with a sigh. Oh well, nothing much he could do about that.

"So how are we going to find Elphaba before dawn?" Fiyero thought out loud. "Ozymandias had scoured the entire city. Where could she be hiding?"

"She gave me this amulet," Boq said, pulling out the woven band that was draped around his neck. "I think it's a map. See, the strings are the streets, and this bead in the middle, the one with a cross, is the cathedral!"

Fiyero looked closely at the woven band, and it did, in fact, resemble a map very closely. "Yes, and this blue string must be the canal!" he exclaimed, pointing to a light blue colored string that circled around the middle of the band.

"And this bead," Boq said, pointing to a smaller bead off to the side of the cathedral. "Must be the location of Elphaba's hideaway!"

"Brilliant!" Fiyero said, taking off in the drection of the bead. "Come on, there's not a moment to lose!"

Fiyero and Boq raced to the eastern section of the city, across the canal. They soon found themselves approaching a very old cemetery, the forbidding landscape dotted with towering stony gravestones and ghostly figurines. Two stone angels stood at the gats that lead into the ancient cemetery, each holding a sword off to the side, apparently signaling as a warning for all who dared to disturb the sacred ground.

Fiyero took a thick length of wood and tied on some tinder to the end of the branch, creating a make-shift torch. Fiyero then tried to light it, striking two small stones together to create a spark, but the stones refused to cooperate. Boq snickered, rolling up his sleeves.

"Allow me," he said, motioning for Fiyero to stand back. Fiyero took a small step back. Boq used the sharp edge of his thumb joint and slid it down the length of his forearm, creating a shower of sparks that instantly lit the torch. The small sparks turned into large flames in a matter of seconds. Beaming, Boq held up the torch and handed it to Fiyero.

"Nifty," he said casually, and they entered the cemetery. It didn't take them too long to find the place they were looking for. It was a large gravestone with an elevated tomb, the same symbol that was on the bead was engraved into the headstone. Fiyero scoured around the large marble tomb, noticing the inscription on the edge.

"Hmm, if I am translating this correctly, this is Ancient Quadling . . . maybe it's another clue. Give me a second, I'll get this translated in a few minutes."

Boq rolled his eyes impatiently. In one swift movement, he grabbed the slate of stone covering the tomb and slid it away, revealing a staircase that lead deep into the depths of the earth. Fiyero stared down the stairs in bewilderment.

"Or we could, uh . . . just take those stairs," he said hastily.

They descended the staircase hidden within the tomb, Fiyero leading the way with the torch held high above their heads. The bottom of the stairs lead to what looked like a sewer, with low, arched brick ceilings and a good six inches of thick, mucky sewage.

"This is the Court of Miracles?" Boq asked with disgust, carefully stepping through the slimy water.

"More like the Court of Ankle-Deep Sewage," Fiyero muttered. "We must be in the old catacombs." He laughed dryly. "Kind of makes you want to wish you got out a little more, eh, Boq?"

"No," he replied thickly. "But thank God I'm wearing boots or my feet would have rusted solid a long time ago."

"You rust that fast?" Fiyero asked curiously.

"I rust as fast as wood burns," Boq said.

Fiyero frowned, deep in thought. "You know, that's not terribly specific."

Boq stopped dead in his tracks and turned to him sharply, glaring at him. "Are you kidding me?!"

"Well, think about it," Fiyero said calmly. "Different types of wood burn differently! Oaks are hard to light, but they burn long and hot. Birches are easier to start, but they don't last as long and the fire's relatively cool. Pines are the hardest to light because they're so moist, and they give off more smoke than fire."

Boq just continued to glare at Fiyero.

"So, what are you? Do you rust like an oak, a birch, or a pine?" Fiyero asked. And he was serious.

Boq growled. "You are _unbelievable_. Now let's move. We need to find Elphaba soon. I don't want to get into any more trouble with my Master."

"Again with all that 'Master' bullcrap," Fiyero muttered to himself. But he paused, thinking. "Speaking of trouble, we should have run into some by now."

"What do you mean?"

"You know, a guard, or a booby trap . . ." Fiyero said, waving his hand. And at that moment, his torch went out. "Or an ambush," Fiyero added as almost an afterthought.

Suddenly, the tunnel burst into light as a dozen men dressed in black clothing and wearing terrifying white and red skull masks swarmed around Fiyero and Boq, waving their torches wildly. Before either of them could react at the sudden attack, the men had their hands tied behind their backs. Another man walked towards them, this one wearing a yellow and blue tunic. It was Avaric, the leader of the Gypsies.

"Well, well, well, what have we here?" he sneered, eyeing the intruders evilly.

"Spies!" one of the Gypsies shouted, thowing off his black skull-like mask.

"Trespassers!" another shouted.

"We're not spies!" Boq protested, but a Gypsy tied a black scarf around his mouth, gagging him.

"You have to listen to us!" Fiyero yelled, but he too was also gagged.

"Don't interrupt!" Avaric said sinisterly, whipping out his own torch, and started to juggle it dangerously close to Fyero's face. "You're very clever to find our hideaway! Too bad you two won't live to tell the tale!" he cackled shrilly. The men jerked Fiyero and Boq to their feet and shoved them down the tunnels, all the while laughing and suggesting horrifying ways to kill them.

"Be-heading!" one suggested.

"Burn them at the stake!"

"Hanging!"

"Throw them in a pot of boiling oil!"

Fiyero's eyes grew wide in fear, and Boq was feeling nervous as well. He hadn't tested completely the extent of his physical capabilitis. He might be able to survive a hanging, but he wasn't so sure.

The group of men lead them to a large cavern, decorated with elaborate and colorful tapestries, caravan of all shapes, sizes and colors scattered around. Hundreds of Gypsies were gathered in the cavern, from all ages, from newborns to the elderly. Boq gaped at the sheer size of the place. All these Gypsies, living undergorund here for all this time? It was hard to believe they had remained secret for so long.

Avaric lead the entourage of men to a scaffold with a beam that had two ropes dangling down, already tied into nooses. Avaric leapt onto the platform, and shouted to the crowds of Gypsies, gathering their attention.

"Ladies and gentlemen!" he shouted. "There's good _noose_ today!" he laughed wickedly, holding the nooses around his own neck playfully. The Gypsies laughed along, spurred with eagerness for the sight of a grisly hanging. Fiyero and Boq were dragged up to the stage, where the men tied the nooses around their necks, tightening them. "We have a double-header!" Avaric continued to shout, gesturing towards the bound and gagged Fiyero and Boq. Fiyero tried to break free of the ropes, but to no avail.

"First, we have Ozymandias's Captain of the Guards!" Avaric said, saluting by Fiyero's side. "And we have Oymandias's own personal servant, the hideous metal monstrosity of the bell towers!" Avaric continued, growling and snarling mockingly in Boq's face. Boq went rigid with anger.

The crowds booed and jeered, urging Avaric on with the hanging. Avaric held up his hands, silencing the crowds.

"I am the judge of this trial! And I find these two men completely and totally innocent, which is of course, the worst crime of all!" The crowds roared with cheers, and Avaric slowly aproached the lever to seal their fate, his hands twitching anxiously. He gave them a sinister smile as he grasped the lever.

"STOP!" a voice rang out.

Avari paused, turning to see who dared interrupt the execution. It was Elphaba, bravely pushing her way to the front. She quickly stepped up to the platform and untied Fiyero and Boq's hands and gags, and pulled the noose's from around their necks.

"These men aren't spies, they're our friends!" she said angrily once Fiyero and Boq were untied and safe from death. "Boq helped me escape the cathedral, and Fiyero was the one that saved the miller family! They're not Ozymandias's allies anymore!"

"Well why didn't they say so?" Avaric said innocently.

"WE _DID_ SAY SO!" Boq and Fiyero roared in unison. Fiyero stepped forward immediately once Elphaba had released him, addressing the crowds.

"And we have come to warn you!" he said, spreading his arms meaningfully. "Ozymandias knows where you're hiding and will attack at dawn with a thousand men!"

A gasp rippled through the crowds, mothers hugging their children and men clenching their fists with fear.

"Then let's waste no time! Gather up everything and let's move!" Elphaba added.

The Gypsies did not need to be told twice. Everyone burst into action, tearing down the colorful tapestries and jamming all of their belongings into the many caravans. There was much yelling and running about as anything and everything was stripped from its place and shoved into bags and suitcases.

Fiyero and Elphaba descended the platform, Boq following closely behind.

"You took a terrible risk coming here," Elphaba said, gently gripping Fiyero's hand. "We may not look like it, but we're immensely thankful." She then proceeded to wrap her arms around his waist, and Fiyero returned the gesture, pulling her closer to his own body and resting his head on the top of her own. Out of the corner of Fiyero's eye, he saw Boq standing off to the side, a hurt and saddened expression in his silver features. Fiyero sighed, knowing full well of the creature's feelings for Elphaba--and of _him_, for that matter.

"I can't take all the credit," Fiyero said modestly, turning and gesturing to Boq. He immediately stood straight and tall, all hostility void of his expression. "It was all Boq's idea. He was the one who was able to discover where you were hiding."

Elphaba smiled, hugging him tightly as well. "The band, right?" she asked with a smile.

Boq nodded. "I was able to figure it out, and it lead us right to you!"

"As did us!" a cold voice thundered throughout the catacomb.

Elphaba and Boq jumped, turning around. At the entrance of the enormous cavern was Ozymandias himself, surrounded by hundreds upon hundreds of guards. The Gypsies screamed as the guards poured into the caverns, surrounding everyone who attemted to escape. The guards herded the frightened Gypsies to the center of the cavern, each of them clutching one another out of absolute fear and terror. Two guards grabbed Elphaba and Fiyero, while Boq was shoved aside like a useless dog.

"Finally, after twenty-two years of searching, the Court of Miracles is mine at last!" Ozymandias said, his eyes blazing with an insane glow of ravenous accomplishment. He approached Fiyero. "Ah, if it isn't my good old captain, back from the dead! Another miracle, if I do say so myself!"

Fiyero snarled and tried to break free of the guards' grips, but he could not. Boq rushed to his Master's side.

"You tricked me!" Boq roared angrily.

Ozymandias laughed coldly. "Foolish creature, this was your sole reason for existing! To help me find these heathens and rid them from the face of the earth! And you did just that! You lead me right to your little Gypsy friend!"

"You're nothing but a dog!" Elphaba snapped angrily.

"And you, my little witch, shall burn at the stake!" Ozymandias laughed.

Boq jumped between Ozymandias and Elphaba. "I won't let you hurt my friends!"

Ozymandias cocked an eyebrow. "You dare disobey your master?" he said in a quiet voice.

Boq stiffened. "Yes. I dare disobey my master!"

Ozymandias waved to another nearby guard, who grabbed a bucket of water and splashed it all over Boq. Boq shielded his face with his arms, and thankfully, his tunic and clothes absorbed most of the water, but there was still more than enough to partially rust his limbs. Boq tried to move his legs, but they were slowed with the rust build-up. He could only move an inch or so in any direction, but Boq did not stop. He attempted to stand his ground, between Oz and Elphaba, but another guard threw yet another bucket of water all over Boq, rusting his knees completely. He couldn't move at all, tried as he might.

Ozymandias laughed. "There's to be a bonfire at dawn and you're all invited!" Ozymandias yelled, looking at all of the Gypsies caught in the circle of guards. The gypsies cried out in terror and anguish at their grisly impending fate, and Ozymandias ignored it all, turning back to the guards standing around the rusted tin man.

"Lock him up in the bell towers and be sure he cannot escape!" Ozymandias said. "The Gypsy dancer is the first to be burned!"


	13. All Hope Is Lost

Ozymandias and his men moved quickly about the caverns, eager to put all the Gypsies in chains. The Gypsies tried to run and fight back, but the guards were brutal and merciless, striking the women and children if any of them dared to resist. It was a hopeless situation, and all any of them could do was line up and wait to be carted to their deaths.

As for Boq, he was hopelessly bound in chains and dragged back to the cathedral, while all the Gypsies, and Fiyero, were thrown into what looked like very large cages, pulled by large draft horses. In front of the great cathedral Notre Dame herself, the guards already started to build an elevated stage where Elphaba would be burned, in the square where the entire city could watch her die. And Boq had a front-row seat to watch the terrible deed, a cruel mockery of his alliance to the Gypsy girl. He was tied to the stony pillars of the cathedral, in the balcony right between the two mighty towers of Notre Dame. As if the chains weren't enough, the guards threw more water over him, rusting him almost completely. But Boq never stopped trying to break free of his imprisonment. But he was so rusted, he couldn't move at all, try as he might.

All Boq coul do was stare down, completely immobile, at the scene before him. Peasants were swarming the square in front of the cathedral to watch the witch being burned alive. Elphaba was already tied to the poll, and a few guards were throwing bails of hay around her feet. The Gypsies were waiting in the caged caravans, next in line to be burned. Fiyero was in one of them, vainly trying to escape, jerking and yanking against the metal bars with all his might. Ozymandias's voice rang out clear throughout the crowds as he pronounced Elphaba's sentence.

"Elphaba is charged with the crime of witchcraft!" Ozymandias bellowed. "The sentence is DEATH!"

The peasants roared in protest, claiming Elphaba to be innocent, but the guards simply shoved them back with their spears and shields.

"This witch has polluted the minds of our city with her heathen practices and dark magic!" Ozymandias said, taking a torch from the executioner. "And now she will be punished for her crimes against God and humanity!" He turned to Elphaba, a cold sneer on his face. "These are your final hours! You stand on the brink of the abyss! But even now, it's not too late! I can save you from the fires of this world, and the next!"

Elphaba glared coldly at him, grimancing with hatred and anger. She would never bow down to that corrupt tyrant's command.

"Choose me, or the fire!" Ozymandias commanded, raising the torch.

Elphaba spat in his face, disgusted Ozymandias even offered such a choice. Her decision was absolute. She would rather die than be under his control. Ozymandias recoiled, hissing viciously. He turned to the crowds.

"The Gysy witch has refused to repent!" he cried. Boq began to panic, and tried moving his limbs. He had to help her! He couldn't let Ozymandias win! He couldn't lose Elphaba! He couldn't lose the only woman he loved!

His joints creaked loudly in brutal protest, but Boq kept pushing.

"She is nothing more but a demon in disguise, leading us all to corruption and eternal damnation!"

Ozymandias was wrong! Elphaba was good and innocent! And Boq will not let her die! He wasn't going to let rust andchains hold him back! He was stronger than that!

His joints screeched louder, slowly breaking away the coat of rust, but it still wasn't enough. He pushed harder, screaming out as he pushed his body to move. His arms cracked free of their rusty prison. He pulled against the chains with all of his strength. He had to break free. He had to save Elphaba!

That one thought filled his mind. That was the only thing that mattered. He had to save Elphaba!

"And it is time to send this creature from hell back where she belongs!" Ozymandias cried, touching the torch to the barrels of hay.

_"NOOOOO!"_ Boq screamed. He will not let his friends die! He could see Elphaba cough violently as the flame creeped closer and closer to her, the deadly fumes infecting her and knocking her unconscious.

_He will not let his friends die!!!_

His legs snapped free of the rust's grip, and he wasted no time in pulling against the chains, desperate to break free. The chains bent and groaned, but that day, Boq learned that tin was more powerful than steel. The chains snapped, and crumpled around Boq, who was now free from his bondage. Seething with fury and determination, he grabbed one of the chains and looped it around a stone gargoyle. He jumped from the balcony, swinging around the towers, and landing on the platform where Elphaba was. Completely immune to the flames' ravenous and all-consuming hunger, he plunged into the inferno and cut Elphaba free of the poll, hefting her uconscious frame onto his shoulders.

Guards jumped up to stop him, and Boq lifted the poll in his other arm and threw it at the guards, knocking them off. Boq grabbed the chain he used to swing down, and started pulling himself up to the safety of the cathedrals.

Ozymandias growled in rage. "That disobedient slave! How dare he?!"

Bow climbed to the balcony of the cathedral between the two towers and raised the unconscious Elphaba above his head.

"SANCTUARY!" he cried. The crowds roared in response. "SANCTUARY! _SANCTUARY!!"_

Boq knew Ozymandias would never break the Holy Law of sanctuary. She would be safe here. He carried her back into the bell towers and placed her gently on the bed Fiyero had laid on just a few hours ago.

"Don't worry, you'll be safe here," he said quietly to her, even though she could not hear him. He gently brushed a lock of ebony hair away from her emerald face, savoring her presence for only a moment.

But to his shock, Ozymandias rallied up the soldiers, who carried a large beam, and started to break down the doors. Ozymandias was still going to try to kill Elphaba! Boq then realize not even the holy laws could protect him now. He had to fight back against his own master.

Fiyero was watching the guards carefully, and seized the chance when a guard stepped too close to his prison. Fiyero's arms sprung out from within the metal bars and wrapped around the guard's neck, punching him across the face once the guard was in his grasp. The guard slumped to the ground, and Fiyero was able to reach ot his hand and grab the keys. After unlocking himself from the cage, he clambered up top and took a spear, raising it over his head.

"Ozymandias has ransacked our city, burned it to the ground, and now he has declared war on Notre Dame herself!" Fiyero roared furiously to the crowds. "Will we allow this?!"

The peasants were instantly whipped into a frenzy, charging at the guards with their farming tools, and they even used their shovels to break the locks of the Gypsies' cages. They too eagerly joined the fight against Ozymandias's guards. Boq watched from above, smiling proudly at Fiyero's braverism. He could clearly see Fiyero viciously fight off the guards, using his experienced fighting skills from his years as a soldier to overpower any of the guards who came his way. Fiyero was clearly the most skilled of all the fighters, and the most ferocious.

It was no mystery how he had earnd his nickname "the scarecrow."

But Boq needed to do something to help, as well.

Boq raced back to the center balcony of the cathedral. It was very fortunate that Ferdinan had asked for another bell to be made for the cathedral, because now there was a large vat of molten metal, waiting to be shaped. Unfortunately, Boq was left with little choice but to use it to seal off the entrance to Notre Dame. He tugged a rope tied to the vat, tipping it over and spilling the firey-hot liquid metal on the floors of the balcony. The liquid flowed over the edge, pouring all around the cathedral, creating a fiery curtain and barrier. No one could get in, and the metal would take days to cool, creating a temporary safe haven.

Elphaba was safe.

Or so Boq thought.

* * *

Ozymandias and his men managed to crack open the doors ever so slightly, and Ozymandias was able to push his way inside moments before the lava was poured. His men were consumed by the firey liquid, but Ozymandias was safe from the liquid metal. He pulled out a sword he managed to snatch from one of his guards and charged up the tower stairs, where he knew Boq would be hiding Elphaba, the witch.

And once Ozymandias killed Elphaba, he would make sure to permanently dispose of that metal abomination.

Ferdinan roared down the staircase, waving his arms wildly. "Ozymandias, have you gone mad?!" he cried. "I will not tolerate this assault on the house of God!"

"Out of my way!" he roared in return, grabbing the Arch Deacon by the collar and throwing him to the floor. Ozymandias bolted up the stairs and locked the tower doors behind him. "I have unfinished buisness to attend to, and you will no longer be in my way!"

* * *

Boq burst back inside the bell towers, beaming with pride and accomplishment. He did it! They did it! They had fought off Ozymandias and freed the Gypsies from certain death!

"Elphaba, come quick!" he said happily. "We did it! We fought them back! We fought off Ozymandias and all his guards! Come on and see!" He raced out of the room, only to find Elphaba had not yet followed him. Cautiously, he returned to the room, and saw that Elphaba was still unconscious. Gently, he knelt by her side and gripped her hand, stroking her hair.

"Elphaba, please wake up," he whispered, shaking her shoulder.

She didn't move.

Boq felt a tightening sensation in his chest as he began to panic, trying to fight off his worst fear becoming a reality. He had to get her some water, it should do the trick. He grabbed a small bowl of water and a spoon and slowly poured some water ito her partially-opened lips. But it only ran off her mouth.

A terrible realization over came Boq, and the wooden spoon slipped from Boq's tin fingers, clattered to the floor. He lifted Elphaba's head and felt for her heartbeat, desperately looking for a pulse. He pressed his ear on top of her chest, praying to hear her heart, praying to find any sign at all she was still alive.

He couldn't find one.

"No, no!" he cried, feeling tears form in his eyes. "No, you can't die! Elphaba, please wake up! Elphaba!" He collapsed onto her lifeless body, sobbing mercilessly. "No, no, no! Please, don't leave me! Don't die! Please, don't die and leave me here all alone! I love you!"

But however hard it was for him to accept, he knew the horrible truth. It shattered his heart, shattered his spirit and soul, crushed all hopes of happiness, of a better and brighter future. He knew that Elphaba was dead.

The only woman he loved, the only woman he had ever cared for, was dead.

And for the third time in his entire life, Boq wept.


	14. And He Shall Smite The Wicked

**Hey, do you guy like scavenger hunts?! You do? Great! Because hidden in this story (some metaphorically, some literally) are a few of the Fourteen Stages of the Cross! See how many you can find! But you're going to have to be a little bit clever for some of these.**

**-Veronica Wipes the face of Jesus**

**-Jesus Falls for the First, Second, and Third Time**

**-Jesus Dies On The Cross**

**-Jesus Is Sentenced (imagination on this one, kiddies)**

**-Simon Helps Jesus (this one's a bit of a stretch)**

**-Jesus Is Nailed To the Cross (again, think creatively)**

**Can you find them all? (They don't appear in this order! And sometimes the person who is "Jesus" in one stage isn't "Jesus" in another stage.) It's like a scavenger hunt, y'see?!**

* * *

Ozymandias allowed a cold smile to form on his thin lips as he ascended the bell towers. He watched that hideous metal monstrosity bend over Elphaba's lifeless body and hold her tightly, sobbing without restraint. He could hear him muttering angry words, sorrowful words, wishing that Elpahab wasn't dead. He laughed under his breath. Perhaps his mission wasn't a complete failure after all. He managed to kill the Gypsy barbarian.

He approached Boq, placing a hand on his tin shoulder. His head snapped around, his eyes burning with fury and grief.

"You killed her!" he said in a harsh whisper.

Ozymandias's expression was now one of utter regret. "It was only my duty, horrible as it was," he said softly. "But . . . now you have been freed of her control. Now you are no longer under her spell. You are free now, my dear servant. You are better off without her."

Boq's broken heart burned with intense rage, furious Ozymandias could even bear to say that to his face. Boq abruptly stood, bellowing with fury, and delivered a powerful punch to the side of Ozymandias's face. Ozymandias fell to the floor, coughing up a bloody tooth as he glared furiously at the metal being for doing such a thing. Boq towered over him, livid with rage, and shaking from head to toe. His eyes burned with a merciless fire. And never before had Ozymandias been so terrified.

"Now, now, Boq . . ." Ozymandias stuttered, trying to calm him down. "Please, listen to me!"

"NO! YOU LISTEN TO _ME_!" Boq roared, grabbing his collar and yanking him to his feet. "ALL MY LIFE YOU TOLD ME HOW MUCH OF A MONSTER I WAS! HOW I WAS NO LONGER HUMAN! HOW I COULD NEVER AGAIN BE ACCEPTED INTO SOCIETY! HOW CRUEL AND DARK AND COLD THE WORLD IS FOR A FREAK LIKE ME!!! BUT ALL ALONG, YOU WERE _WRONG_!!" Boq threw him to the ground, still gripping his collar tightly. "But the only heartless monsters in the world are people like you! People who will kill anyone who dares step in their way! Who kill anyone who just happen to be a little different!! You killed an innocent woman, Ozymandias! And neither I nor God will ever forgive you for your heartless action!!"

Boq raised his fist, ready to deliver another powerful blow to Ozymandias, but he heard a soft moan coming from behind him. He turned around. Elphaba was groaning, twisting sluggishly around in her bed.

"Boq . . . ?" she whispered, her voice a hoarse croak.

Boq's jaw dropped wide open. "Elphaba!" he cried, rushing to her side. He completely forgot about Ozymandias in his joy. Nothing mattered except for the fact that Elphaba was alive! He gripped her tightly, assuring himself it was real. And it was! Elphaba was alive!

"Oh, my dear, sweet Elphaba!" he cried. "I thought I lost you!"

"It's going to take more than a little smoke and fire to kill me," she smiled weakly, but clearly she was still a little out of it and not completely well. But she would recover.

"The Gypsy witch lives!" Ozymandias snarled, pulling out his sword.

Boq scooped Elphaba up in his strong arms. "You shall not touch her!" he roared. "I will not let you take her from me again!"

He bolted outside of the towers, along the balcony walkway, running as fast as he could. Ozymandias was hot on his heels, sword raised at the ready. Boq skidded around a corner, and stared over the railings, at the stone gargoyles just below the balcony. And he had an idea.

"Elphaba, do you trust me?" he said.

"Of course!" she replied instantly.

"Then close your eyes!" he commanded. And he jumped on the balcony railing and leapt over the edge.

* * *

Fiyero tried to catch his breath after nearly getting killed. He managed to make it inside of the cathedral just seconds before Boq dumped the molten metal all around the cathedral. He had some minor burns on his arm, but they would heal. He knew Ozymandias was inside, as well. He had to find Elphaba, and Boq, before Oz could kill them.

Whipping out his sword, he bolted up the tower stairs.

* * *

Ozymandias turned the corner, but Boq was nowhere in sight. He stepped precariously closer to the edge, and looked over the railing. There, just hanging off a gargoyle, was Boq, one arm around Elphaba while the other clutched onto the gargoyle. Ozymandias stepped onto the railing, holding up his sword sinisterly.

"Leaving so soon?" he snarled, then struck at the gargoyle. The gargoyle began to crack, and Boq swung over to another one, clambering on top of that one. He pushed Elphaba back onto the balcony walkway and climbed up after her, where Ozymandias instantly started to charge them, sword raised high.

"Elphaba! RUN!" Boq cried.

She didn't need to be told again. She sprinted back down the walkway, Boq following her, keeping between her and Ozymandias. Ozymandias slashed at him with his sword, and Boq rose his arm, shielding himself from the attack. The sword clashed against Boq's metal arms in a flurry of sparks. Ozymandias rose his sword to attack again, and Boq parried it once more. Ozymandias and Boq entered a dangerous dance, attacking, blocking, attacking yet again, blocking again. It was all Boq could do; raise his arm defensively against the incoming sword. The steel blade scratched at the tin plating covering Boq's arm, but even its sharp edge could not cut through.

Boq was backed up against the corner of the balcony, the thin granite railing the only thing separating him from the hundred foot fall to the brick roads below. Ozymandias kept pushing, driving him further and further against the balcony, and with a powerful thrust, managed to shove Boq over the railing. Boq reached out and grabbed a stone statue for dear life. Ozymandias clambered over the railing, ready to finish him off once and for all.

Fiyero suddenly burst through the doors, sword drawn and a ferocious scowl engraved into his features, Elphaba at his side. Fiyero raised his sword to attack Ozymandias, but Ozymandias raised a single finger threateningly.

"Ah, ah, ah," Ozymandias said coyly, pointing at Boq with his sword. "Take one more step closer, and he dies!"

Fiyero paused, his face still covered in a fierce expression, but he lowered his sword.

Ozymandias stepped closer to Boq, sword raised. "You were such a devout and loyal slave, until that Gypsy witch appeared," Ozymandias growled. Boq struggled to maintain his grip on the stone statue he clung to for dear life. "But you have disobeyed your master, and must now face the consequences." Ozymandias drove the tip of his sword into the statue, dangerously close to Boq's hands. He slipped slightly, sliding inches further to certain death.

"But, I suppose, before you die, you deserve to know the truth," he continued to sneer.

"About what?" Boq shot back.

"About your mother," Ozymandias said. "You see, after I found you when you were just a baby, I investigated a bit into how you managed to get captured by that Gypsy band. And I found out after a few weeks of searching. Turns out that your parents lived on a farm, but their crops caught fire and everything went down in a horrible firey blaze. Your parents were caught in the fire, but a band of Gypsies happened to be nearby and tried to rescue your poor parents from the fire. Unfortunately, you were the only one they could save."

Boq's eyes went wide in horror. No . . . it couldn't be true . . .

"And it turns out it was your mother's dying _wish_ that the Gysies took you in and rasied you as their own," Ozymandias said cruelly, and laughed. "How _ironic_!"

Ozymandias continued to laugh cruelly. Boq felt something burning inside of him, an uncontrollable surge of anger and hatred for the man--no, the _monster_--standing before him. Ozymandias killed an innocent woman! Ozymandias killed Boq's adoptive parents!

_Oymandias murdered his family!!_

Boq screamed in rage, lunging at Ozymandias. He grabbed the sword stuck into the statue and pulled himself back onto the balcony, toppling Ozymandias over. Boq furiously grabbed the collar of Ozymandias's clothing and lifted him high into the air. He swung him over the edge, Boq's strong grip the only thing between Ozymandias and the ground.

"No! Please, stop!" Ozymandias pleaded, panic-stricken. "Please, don't kill me!"

"And what reason would I have for sparing your despicable life?" Boq said coldly. "You're nothing but a heartless murderer! You imprisoned me in a tower for fifteen years! You kidnapped me from my rightful family and killed them!! You tried to kill my friends! Why should I _not_ kill you?!"

"You have always been such a kind and generous servant," Ozymandias said desperately. "You would never kill your own master, would you?"

Boq stood on the balcony railing, hoisting Ozymandias higher, and further from the cathedral. "You are no longer my master!" Boq said coldly. "And I am your servant no more!"

With that, Boq released his hold on Ozymandias's collar, and watched him fall. He almost seemed to be falling in slow motion, his mout agape in a silent scream. Boq lost sight of Ozymandias as he plunged into the smoke, created by the numerous fires around the cathedral itself.

But he knew Ozymandias was dead. No human being could survive that fall.

Boq stepped off the railing, turning back to his friends, Elphaba and Fiyero. Both looked at him with pride, but also shock. Shock that Boq could find the courage within himself to step up and do such a courageous thing. Boq himself was surprised at his own bravery, but it felt so liberating. It felt as if the weight of the world had been cast off his shoulders. He was no longer bound to any master's chains. He felt lighter, and free. Finally, truly _free_.

Elphaba was the first to approach him and wrap her arms around his neck. He embraced her tightly, thanking God that she was still alive and relatively unharmed.

"I can't believe it . . . but he's gone. He's finally gone!"

"Yes. Ozymandias is dead. We have nothing more to fear from that heartless tyrant," Boq said, closing his eyes.

They were free. All of them were free.

Suddenly, a sharp pain erupted in Boq's chest, and he keeled over, nearly dragging Elphaba to the floor. He screamed in brutal agony as the pain continued to spread, ripping throughout his entire body, tearing his very being into pieces. But it didn't make sense! He _never_ felt pain! He _couldn't_ feel pain! Machines could not be physically harmed! He shouldn't be in so much pain! What was happening to him?!

Elphaba and Fiyero leapt to his side, clutching his hands, both of them terrified for him.

"Boq! Boq! What's going on?! What's happening?!" Elphaba cried desperately.

Boq could only continue to scream. He couldn't make any words form. The pain was so searing, so blinding, so ungodly unbearable. His hands clenched to fists as he twisted and writhed on the ground. The pain only continued to grow until it felt his entire body was submersed in some hellish fire. His metal skin burned. His insides felt as if they were tearing themselves to pieces.

Boq didn't know how much more of this living, hellish nightmare he could stand.

Elphaba still leaned over him, tears forming in her eyes, gripping his shoulders tightly.

"Boq! Hold on! Boq, please, stay with me! Whatever is happening you, you can fight it!" She collapsed into angry sobs, pounding on his metal chest furiously. "You can't die, damn you! Don't you dare _fucking_ die on me!"

Boq's screamings slowly faded as he lost all feeling in his limbs, growing groggier and more sluggish. His arms clanked noisily against the stone walkway as he felt himself slip away from the world.

"BOQ!"

His vision grew fuzzy, and everything was consumed in blackness. He could feel himself continue to slowly drift away. Eveything turned to nothing. There was no more pain. No more anything.

"BOQ!!"

There was no use fighting it any longer. Boq closed his eyes, and drifted away into the darkness, letting go of the world he had been a part of for such a bitterly short time.

He had no regrets.

_"BOQ!"_ She was still calling out to him, trying to bring him back.

But even her beautiful voice faded away into nothing.

There was no going back.

* * *

**Good news! Elphaba's not dead!**

**Bad news! Boq _is._ T_T**


	15. The Monster And The Man

**I want to take this moment to once again thank you all for your wonderful reviews. As you may know, I am a total comment whore, so reviews are always a good thing if you want great, frequently updated stories :D**

**And you guys did an AMAZINGLY INCREDIBLY AWESOME job with reviewing to this story quickly and generously. BROWNIES TO YOU ALL!!!!**

**And now, I present the final chapter!**

**(After you read this story, mosey on over to Cursed Blood and show THAT story some looooove! :D)**

* * *

Elphaba paced worriedly around in circles, her bare feet thumping softly against the tile floor. She couldn't believe what had just happened.

She saw it with her own eyes. She was there. But she still couldn't believe it.

He was _gone_.

Fiyero was sitting casually in a chair nearby, and Elphaba couldn't help but to throw him a disaproving look. How could he be so-so _careless_ at a time like this?!

"Elphaba, please, calm down," Fiyero said gently, finally pushing himself off the chair. He strided over to Elphaba and enveloped her in his warm arms. Elphaba leaned her head against his shoulder and he rocked her back and forth, smoothly, gently.

"I still can't believe he-he's . . ." she stuttered, not being able to muster up the courage to complete her sentence.

"Shh, it's ok, I can't believe it, either," Fiyero whispered lovingly, stroking her hair. "But . . . it happened."

Elphaba closd her eyes. "I know."

"Do you want to see him?" Elphaba slowly nodded after a slight pause. "Ok, let's go, then." Fiyero sliped out of their embrace and took her hand, leading her over to Boq. He was lying perfectly still on the ground, his eyes closed, and his entire body rigid and stiff. Elphaba had thrown a blanket over his form, exposing only his face. Elphaba knelt over his figure and reached out her hand as if to touch the side of his face, but she couldn't bring herself to do it. She couldn't even touch him.

She gasped out loud with a soft sob. "Oh, Boq . . ." she whispered.

Fiyero said nothing as he gently squeezed her hand.

They sat there for a very long time, in utter silence, until the dawn finally broke over the horizon. The entire city was submersed in a warm gentle light, and the towers themselves seemed to glow in the sunlight. A ray of sun broke through the windows of the towers and fell upon Boq's closed eyes.

He stirred, grimancing. He groaned softly in discomfort, and his jaw cracked open. "El . . . Elphaba . . . ?" he muttered weakly.

Elphaba jumped in surprise at Boq's sudden movement. She quickly grasped Boq's shoulders and eased him back onto the floor.

"Shh, it's ok, I'm right here," Elphaba said gently.

Boq's silver eyes cracked open, and he smiled when his silver orbs met hers. "I thought I died," he said in the same weak and scratchy voice.

"I thought you did, too," she replied with a smile. She hugged him tightly. "But you're alive, and you're going to be ok now!"

Fiyero smirked. "_More_ than ok, I should hope."

Elphaba smiled even wider in response.

Boq rose an eyebrow in confusion. "What are you talking about?"

Elphaba threw Fiyero a sinister look. "Can we tell him?"

Fiyero shook his head, still smiling. "No, I want to see how long it takes him to figure it out on his own."

"Figure _what_ out?!" Boq said impatiently.

Fiyero and Elphaba strarted laughing. "He's so clueless!" Fiyero said in between loud roars of laughter.

"Stop being so mean!" Elphaba retorted, although she was laughing just as hard as Fiyero.

"Hey! Whatever you're laughing about, it's not funny!" Boq said, jumping to his feet. All the sudden, his vision started to swim and he felt an immense wave of nausea overcome him. His knees buckled underneath him and he fell clumsily to the floor, Fiyero and Elphaba catching him before he hit the floor.

"Whoa, easy there," Fiyero said, helping him sit back down on the ground. "Not a good idea to suddenly jump to your feet after laying down for a bit."

Boq rubbed his head. "Wh-what the hell?" he muttered weakly. "I never-"

He stopped mid-sentence and stared at his hand. His jaw fell open as he gaped at the sight. His hand was no longer made of metal. It was made of flesh and blood. His soft, pink-tannish skin seemed to nearly glow in the morning sunlight. Boq flexed his hand to make sure it was really his.

And it was.

Boq rose his other hand to his face, and that too was soft and pale and fleshy. No longer made of tin. He shook his head in disbelief, tears forming in his eyes. He reached up and touched his own face, and realized he could _feel_ his hands touch his face. His hands were cold, but they were _there_. He could _feel_ again! Fifteen years trapped in a metal body, he forgot how utterly wonderful it was to feel things again!

Boq looked at Elphaba, tears of joy in both of their eyes. "I--I'm human," Boq said in a whisper, hardly daring to believe it. He laughed loudly. "I'm human again!"

She nodded, and leapt at him, gripping him tightly. "Oh, Boq! I know! It's wonderful!"

Elphaba nearly toppled Boq over when she lunged at him, but he laughed. It was indescribable how great it felt to be touched and embraced without restraint. Now he could hug Elphaba back with all his might, not needing to fear crushing her or bruising her with cold metal limbs.

"I want to see myself," Boq said suddenly. "Can I have a mirror?"

Elphaba sat up and nodded, quickly scampering about the towers until she found a small round mirror. She handed it to Boq, who looked somewhat hesitantly at his own reflection.

A round, pleasant face greeted him, a face with large warm eyes with irises the same color as liquid silver. He had long, spiky dark brown hair that fell to the middle of his forehead. And he beamed.

"I . . . this is a miracle!" he said, placing down the mirror and rising to his unsure feet. "I'm human again! But how?!"

Elphaba rose to her feet as well, shaking her head. "I have no idea, Boq," she said. "When you passed out, you suddenly changed back. Your body started to glow and melted into a human shape. But it doesn't matter! Whatever spell made you turn into a machine is broken."

A huched over figure approached them out of the shadows of the bell tower, her features hidden beneath a heavy layer of shawls. "Very clever of you, my little witch," the figure said hoarsely.

Immediately Boq and Fiyero were on defense, standing between Elphaba and the mysterious person. "Who are you?" Boq challenged.

"It's been fifteen years, my dear boy, since I saw you last," the old woman continued to croak, pointing at Boq. "And it's about bloody time you finally broke the spell I cast on you."

Boq's jaw dropped wide open. "You--you--_you_--" Boq stuttered, barely able to make himself speak.

"You turned Boq into a machine in the first place?!" Fiyero said in stunned surprise.

"Yes," the woman croaked. "Boq was nothing more than Ozymandias's heartless servant when I first saw him. I cast the spell on him to make him see the errors of his ways. And the only way Boq could break the spell was to realize Ozymandias's wrong-doings and free himself of servitude to Ozymandias."

Boq stared long and hard at the woman. "So . . . all this time . . . all these years spent as nothing more than a _monster_ . . ."

"Was to teach you the true meaning of the word 'monster,' " the woman said. "And you did. You finally found the heart to free yourself from Ozymandias and declare that you were no longer his servant."

Fiyero shook his head. "But why didn't you curse _Ozymandias_?! Surely he deserved it more than Boq!"

"Oh, but I did," the woman said. "Ozymandias loved Boq with all his heart before I cursed him. I punished Ozymandias by turning Boq into a machine."

"And why didn't you just turn _him_ into metal?!" Boq said a little fiercely.

"Because, my dear boy, it wouldn't have tormented him _nearly_ as much as seeing you as nothing more than a metaphysical reresentation of his cold lifeless heart," the woman said slowly. "And _you_ also had to learn your lesson."

Boq shook his head. "I think I need to sit down . . ."

The woman laughed. "You have been through much, but you emerged all the stronger, all the better. It was for the best, don't forget that."

Boq looked back at Elphaba and smiled. "Yes. Yes, it was."

The woman smiled, and gave a nod before departing. "And Elphaba?"

"Yes?" she replied quietly.

"If you are looking for a teacher, I am always ready to undertake prodigious pupils under my wings," she said with a toothless smile.

Elphaba smiled shyly. "I'll remember that."

And then the woman disappeared back into the shadows.

"You think taking lessons from her is a good idea?" Boq asked cautiously.

Elphaba laughed. "She turned you into metal. She is obviously a very talented witch."

"Now I'm worried," Fiyero said seriously. "What will _you_ do to me?"

Elphaba laughed as Fiyero scooped her up in his arms. Elphaba caught Boq's eye and immediately her laughter ceased as she pushed herself away from Fiyero's grip.

She approached him, twisting her hands nervously. "Boq, I cannot possibly thank you enough for everything you've done. I owe you my life. We both do," Elphaba said, gesturing to Fiyero. Fiyero gave him a nod and a smile. Elphaba turned back to Boq, her eyes cast to the ground. "I care about you more than you could possibly imagine . . . but . . . I . . . I . . ."

Boq put a finger to her lips. She looked up at him. He smiled at her, a warm and tender smile.

"I know," he said. "You saved me from a cursed life for the rest of eternity. You helped me find my heart. My _real_ heart." He pulled Elphaba in for a brief hug. "And I understand that you must follow your own heart. And I know your heart belongs with Fiyero." He grasped her hand in his own, and took Fiyero's in his other, and placed their hands on top of each other, tan against emerald. The perfect match.

Boq stepped back and gave a brief nod, showing his approval. Elphaba smiled at him, but her eyes instantly locked with Fiyero's. They pulled closer to each other, kissing each other softly at first, but then with more passion. Boq sighed with content. They were so perfect for each other. They were destined from the moment they were born to be together.

There would always be other women out there, waiting for him. Waiting to find the perfect match.

Boq would find his other half one day.

Fiyero took Elphaba's hand and turned to Boq. He gave him a wink. "Now let's go out and celebrate!"

Boq smiled, but quickly remembered something. "The molten metal! I don't think it's cooled yet," he said worriedly.

Fiyero shrugged. "Only one way to find out."

They descended the stair case, Boq a little clumsy on his new feet. It felt so unreal to not move in strict rigid movements. He could move more freely, flow through his steps more smoothly than he could as a machine.

Fiyero worked his way over to the front doors of the cathedral, which were battered and broken. Fiyero stepped through the doors, helping Boq and Elphaba. And on the steps of the cathedral, the liquid metal had completely hardened, forming a thin black layer of metal.

Boq smiled. "That witch must have cooled it," he said.

Elphaba smiled, turning to Boq. "Ready to go out into the real world?" she asked, taking his hand.

He smiled. "Of course I am!"

Fiyero descended the steps of the cathedral, taking Elphaba's other hand, with Boq following them. Fiyero pounded his fist into the air and gave a loud cheer.

"Ozymandias is dead!" Fiyero cried joyously. "We are free from his tyranny forever!"

The crowds roared in response, saluting the former-captain and the Gypsy. They started to chant Fiyero's name in his honor, but Fiyero held up his hands, quickly silencing them.

"I am not the true hero, though," Fiyero said. A surprised murmur rippled through the crowds. "The real hero is this man, standing by my side!" he concluded, gesturing to Boq.

Everyone's eyes turned to him, some confused, and some politely clapped in honor of him. But they obviously did not recognize him as the tin man of the bell towers.

Fiyero nudged Boq's side. "Go on, tell them your story!" Fiyero whispered in Boq's ear. Elphaba gave him a reassuring nod.

Boq gulped, and stood before the crowds. "Well, um . . . my name is Boq. And as you may remember . . . I am--I _was_ the tin man of Notre Dame." A mumble of surprise and disbelief spread through the crowds like wildfire. "And, I know you may be wondering how that is possible, so allow me to tell you the whole story . . ."

Boq began at the very beginning, when he was an infant taken in with the Gypsies. He told of the Gypsie's daring rescue, and how Ozymandias killed them, explaining how Ozymandias took him in after murdering his adoptive family.

A stunned silence ensued.

He then continued, explaining how he turned into a tin man, and briefly, his years as the bell ringer. How he met Elphaba, and rescued her from the cathedral. How Ozymandias tricked him into finding the Court of Miracles. How Boq rescued Elphaba once again, and how he killed Ozymandias.

Boq told them everything.

No one spoke for a while, daring to believe their ears. Suddenly, Avaric, the leader of the Gypsies, clambered on top of a caravan, and shouted at the top of his lungs, "ALL HAIL BOQ! OUR SAVIOR!"

The crowds burst into wild cheers as they hoisted him onto his shoulders, and paraded him all around the square. No one was staring. No one was pointing. Everything was finally right with the world.

A hand clamped around his own. Boq turned, and saw a beautiful blond smiling brilliantly at him. She looked terribly familiar . . .

"Hello, Boq!" she smiled, wrapping her arms around his neck. "Remember me?"

Suddenly, he did. "Glinda!" he exclaimed, wrapping her in a tight embrace. "It's wonderful to see you again!"

"So . . . can I finally give the big hero his long-awaited kiss?" she said playfully. "If you recall, you owe me one."

Boq blushed violently. "I . . . ugh . . . I mean--"

She didn't wait for his permission. She planted her sweet, tender lips onto his own, and Boq stiffened. But his shoulders slumped to his side, giving in to the wonderful sense of euphoria. He kissed her more passionately, truly thanking God to be back in his human body once again.

Fiyero smiled with approval. "Well, he earned it," he said.

Elphaba smiled, leaning into Fiyero's shoulder. "I'm glad he has his own happy ending."

"And what about ours?" Fiyero said, sounding rather hurt and pouting playfully.

Elphaba laughed and kissed him. "I couldn't be happier with you, my love."

"I love you, my beautiful Fae."

"I love you too, Yero, my hero."

And in the distance, church bells sung out with the happy news, ringing beautifully and harmoniously thrught the air.

_So here is a riddle, to guess, if you can, sing the bells of Notre Dame. What makes a monster and what makes a man?_

_Sing the bells, bells, bells, bells, bells, bells, bells, bells, BELLS OF NOTRE DAME!_

_**THE END**_


End file.
